


Beasts of All Kinds

by ARogueGambit7



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 61,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6398137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARogueGambit7/pseuds/ARogueGambit7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolf and Shepherd are ancient enemies, opposed in nature and design. A Wolf breaks into folds a Shepherd guards; a Shepherd is duty-bound to fight and perhaps kill a Wolf for what the beast cannot help but do to survive. But what is a shepherd without sheep, a wolf without a pack? </p><p>Free, of course. What a terrifying proposition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Man, Pure of Heart

**A Man, Pure of Heart**

It wasn't as if he was exactly surprised by this turn of events. He was clever enough, and reasonable enough, to view this outcome as a possibility. Out of the several paths he envisioned their relationship (such as it was) taking, this certainly fulfilled the requirements of at least three. So he wasn't bitter, truly. Still, there's something about a woman you trusted with your life trying to shoot you in the head that just leaves a rancid taste in your mouth.

"How long do you think you can keep this up, Akane?" Kougami shouted from his cover behind the lightning struck tree. He threw his voice – a talent he had picked up while traversing the Deccan – even as he listened for the rustling that would signal her next move. She'd gotten better since they last crossed, he would give her that. She was always a fast learner.

Tsunemori Akane's response came in a green-blue blast from a Dominator. Kougami narrowed his eyes, trying to find the point of impact. He couldn't tell whether it was set to Lethal Eliminator or Stun. Hard as it was to imagine her trying to kill him, he couldn't picture the Sibyl System letting him slip past its clutches a third time. When the next blast went off by his ear, he rolled, gun in hand.

"C'mon, Tsunemori!" he yelled, as he jogged, low to the ground. He could hear her movement – a few paces, a yard? – away to his right. Too close for him to try and outrun her without giving her a chance to nail him in the back. "You only got two choices here – hit me, or let me go." The same two she'd had in Shamballa. "Commit to one!"

There was a pause, a heart beat's space of time that seemed longer to Kougami, where he wondered if she might shout back to him. It was split by another shrieking blast from the Dominator. This one forced him to leap out of range, tumbling through thorns that tore angry red welts into his skin. He managed to find his footing again, bringing up his gun instinctively. He pivoted, with only the goal of finding his bearings. Through a Y-shaped trunk of an oak tree, he found himself training his weapon on Akane.

She had her Dominator out before her, but it hovered just below the sightline needed to fire. Her short hair clung to her neck, slicked down with sweat, and her flak jacket appeared two sizes too big for her small body. But Kougami wasn't fooled. There was steel evident in every inch of her lithe frame, and her movements were cautious but sure. Her eyes darted around rapidly, not in fear, but in search of prey.

Kougami let out a long breath, tightening his grip on the pistol. From this distance, he had a very good likelihood of hitting his target. He was a crack shot, and even Akane's slim form was wide enough for his purposes. He focused on her chest. She was protected. Even if he hit her, she would more than probably survive. He only needed a single solid shot, one to knock her out. He could even run up and check that she was alive once he'd done it, before he fled. There was no need to kill her.

He strengthened his grip, readying for the recoil. She moved to the left, and he readjusted. No problem. She was still an easy shot. Barely moving, still trying to find him. He wondered how she could miss his presence. Whenever he was about to be fired upon, he felt it in his shoulders, the sixth sense that comes to the hunted. He guessed that she had never had to cultivate it.

She took another step. He pivoted again. Still possible. Still doable. Nothing in his way. Her side was to him now, but he could aim for her back. He winced, and his hands shook. He re-steadied them, narrowed and widened his eyes. _One shot. Clean. Maybe a bruised rib, but no broken bones. She'll be fine_.

She was moving now, further away, into the trees. He tried to adjust, but found the metal too slick in his hands. Ah. He was sweating. Well, of course he was. Exertion. This was a battle. A fire-fight. He raised the pistol again, and Tsunemori wavered in his view. The pistol wouldn't still. He barely suppressed a growl. _C'mon. Just one shot. Before it's too late. No harm, no foul_.

No use. She used his indecision to jog off into the woods, and he lowered the pistol in mingled fear, shame, and relief. It wouldn't have mattered if he had stayed. He would never have made the shot, he realized, as he looked down at his hands, leaning back against the tree. They shook – slight tremors, but they were unmistakable. They had been there all along. He would have gone wide, or…he would have gone wide.

He should have been using the time to move. His mind raced on ahead of him – to the troupe waiting for him, to the mission they had. Months in the planning, and now streaming towards conclusion. An inevitable end to the unavoidable battle with the Sibyl System. Freedom versus Control. True justice versus its facsimile. Ideals versus empty shells. He was still reminding himself of the need to move when he felt her come up beside him. Mere feet away, and he could feel her heat like she radiated with fever. Maybe she did. Maybe he did, and that was why he couldn't move, save to turn his head.

Her hands didn't shake. The Dominator that stared him down extended from her arm, ramrod straight. He wouldn't have had time to dodge the hit, even if he had reacted. This he assured himself of. "Well?" he asked her, raising up his cobalt eyes to meet her brown ones. There were more golden flecks in them than he remembered; like a hawk's. "You know what you have to do."

He wasn't sure if his message was being relayed to the Sibyl System – he assumed so, with the presence of the Dominator. But she was the one to pull the trigger. That was what mattered.


	2. Bloodied Feet

**Bloodied Feet**

Akane stared down at her weapon, so she wouldn’t have to look at the man behind her. The Dominator was silent now, didn’t even hum in her hands. It had kept its promise. She had been terrified the second after she fired it, tense against betrayal. But it had kept its promise. The shot had only stunned.

Because, see? There he was, groaning behind her. Waking up slowly. She heard the rustling of his limbs, and then the hitch and grunt as he discovered his bonds. “Huh. Gotta admit – I pictured a few different ways this could go. This was not on the list.”

_Cool. Calm. Impassive_. “Kougami Shinya. You are under arrest. You will accompany me back to face a trial of your peers.”

She waited, proud of herself for managing the words without a stutter. She waited, for any indication from him. She thought herself patient, but when his insistent silence became overwhelming she was the one to turn.

Kougami was looking up at her, head titled, lips in the undefinable space between a plain line and a smile. He still wore the tight black shirt and heavy cargo pants she’d found him in, though she’d had to remove his thick vest when binding his hands. Somehow, on his knees, tied hands and chest to the trunk of a tree, he was as imposing as ever. Akane didn’t realize she had taken a step back until a root brushed her ankle.

“A trial of my peers, huh?” Kougami nodded slightly, considering. “Enforcers, then? Latent criminals? Or enemies of the state?”

“I—” Akane heard how high her voice sounded, and quickly lowered it. “I don’t know. But it will be a human jury,” she promised. “Not Sibyl.”

Kougami gave his harsh, one-note laugh. “I see. Can’t imagine Sibyl was too happy about that concession. Am I right in guessing you made it give way? Damn. I wasn’t sure if our plan would really work. But if the System is willing to buy you off with my life, we must have a better shot than even I thought possible.”

Akane burned red with embarrassment, rage, and a tangle of other emotions she didn’t care to name. “And that’s your first thought? Your life is forfeit, and all you see is the possibility of your plan succeeding?” She fisted her hands, her left curling dangerously around the trigger of the Dominator. “And what – you didn’t think you were likely to come out alive before, but you did it anyway? Is your life really worth so little to you, that you’d risk it all on a glorified suicide mission?”

Kougami’s eyebrows went up, his expression now fully bemused. “Don’t tell me you’re angry with me, Akane.”

Akane barely resisted kicking him – she knew he could see her heel rise, her body tense with a possible blow. “I shouldn’t be. I had just let myself hope that maybe you’d reevaluated the way you throw yourself into impossible situations, without caring if you’d come out alive.”

“And why would I do that?”

He was being deliberately dense. Akane wouldn’t dignify his obstinacy with an argument. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever your reasons are, you can save them for your trial.”

“Whoa.” Kougami craned his neck as Akane turned her back. “Now, that’s harsh. Particularly considering the source.”

Akane bit her lips, but couldn’t keep them closed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s be honest, here,” Kougami proposed reasonably. “If you’re worried about that Dominator letting Sibyl know, then let me do the talking to start. Now.” He settled back into the tree trunk, and let his gaze drift upwards. He imagined the flavor of burning tar and nicotine. “You, Tsunemori Akane, have the clearest commitment to justice of anyone I have ever met. It’s clearer than Sibyl’s, something all three of us – you, me, and the system – know. Now, you’ve forced it to come over to your way of thinking before. For you to give in like this, and let it take the wheel, either one of two, or both, of the following is true.”

Akane angled her body just slightly, enough to look over her shoulder. She’d only meant to keep him in her sights, but his eyes caught hers instantly, and held them, unblinking.

“Either you are doing this solely to save my life, which Sibyl has somehow promised you it will spare; or, you have yourself decided that my mission is against the code you live by.” Kougami didn’t blink, but his half-smile revealed his teeth. “You’re too smart to think Sibyl would let me off that easily. And, even if you disagree with my methods or goals, you’d be more likely to try and convince me otherwise, than drag me back to face justice you know I’ll never get.”

Now it was his turn to wait in vain for a reply. Akane let herself enjoy his obvious mounting frustration. “What’s going on here, Akane?” Kougami asked her openly, his rough voice softening. “Why are you really doing this?”

He waited patiently this time, apparently having judged that anything more she would have to give herself. She ran her fingers along the Dominator, carefully choosing her words with their audience in mind. “You’ve come to your conclusions too soon, Kougami-san. You should have eliminated all possible options before deciding I had only two to choose from.”

Kougami frowned, surprised. Then, to Akane’s consternation – that certainly made your heart skip, consternation – he grinned openly. “Well. By now I should expect you to surprise me.”

Akane started to feel herself smiling, and forced as much of a frown as she could manage. “Kougami…” She hesitated, and they both glanced at the Dominator in her hand. “What I need to know—”

The sound was low but unmistakable – the heavy tread of boots, of men attempting to keep their presence concealed. And then, sharper and shorter, the sound of guns cocking.

Akane instantly brought up her Dominator, and gasped when Kougami kicked it from her hands. She whipped around to face him, stunned at how quickly he’d managed to free his knees. She moved to retrieve her gun, and his entire chest seized up as he pulled against the ropes. “Akane, no! If they see you with a gun on me, they’ll shoot you as soon as you’re in their sights.”

Akane bent down anyway, grabbing for her fallen weapon. Kougami heaved, straining against his bindings as he flung his legs out to cover the Dominator. “Dammit, Akane, _think_. How many men do you hear out there? Stop and listen.”

It was too ingrained in her. She trusted; she paused, she listened. “Seven…eight…no, ten…”

“I count twenty-four.” Kougami kept his legs braced over her gun, muscles taut. “I know these men. Some of them I trained, and some of them taught me a thing or two. In about three minutes they’ll have us surrounded. When that happens, you can either be seen to be on my side, or you can be dead.”

Akane bristled at once again finding herself forced to rely upon him; bristled all the more for the rightness of the feeling. Being opposed to him had felt wrong, like her arm was out of joint. It must have shown on her face, because Kougami quickly pressed his advantage. “Untie me. I’ll convince them you’re with us.”

Akane’s hands hovered over her Dominator. Kougami flexed his legs. “Akane – _listen_ to me.”

Akane made a crucial mistake; she looked up. His eyes were narrowed, steely grey and serious. She knew that gaze. She trusted it.

She abandoned her Dominator. If Sibyl had overheard their conversation, then so be it. It could always assume she was simply making the only rational choice left to her. It didn’t have to know how something that had been coiled inside of her released as she cut Kougami’s bonds. She helped him pull away the last of them, leaning back on her heels as he rubbed circulation back into his wrists.

She was waiting when he looked up. He grinned, and she suddenly realized how close they were. _Two years_. Her smile answered his back; irresistibly, as always.

“Well, Inspector,” he began, as if they were back at the MWPSB. “It seems I’ve got you now.”

Akane blinked, her grin still warm. “W—”

Kougami was lightning fast. He’d lost none of his speed in the two years since she’d encountered him last. He had wrenched her right arm behind her back before she could react. By the time she was ready to fight, he already had his left arm wrapped firmly around her neck. The physical shock to her system was compounded by the men who burst from the surrounding trees. Akane’s stomach plummeted. She had been utterly wrong, and Kougami had been understating. There were at least thirty men, all heavily armed and painted for concealment. At least ten of them aimed machine guns, fully automatic, at her and Kougami.

“Wolf 1.” The man who spoke was massive, bulk and muscle in abundance. He held his weapon as if it were made of air. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.” Kougami laughed, the sound reverberating down Akane’s back, although his grip on her throat didn’t tighten. “She wasn’t much of fight.”

Akane choked on rage, and began building up the energy within her to resist. Now Kougami did increase the pressure of his hold, choking her in truth, stealing her air. The man who had addressed Kougami regarded her with eyes like slits. “Do you want us to eliminate her?”

Akane’s body went cold, but she felt Kougami shake his head behind her. “Nah – no need. I can handle this one. Besides, she’s high up with the System. Whatever she knows, we can use.”

The man nodded, accepting Kougami’s response. He lifted up his weapon, and the others did the same. “Alright. We’re trusting you, Kougami.”

Akane gasped as Kougami loosened his grip on her. He released her throat, only to grasp her other arm behind her back. He stood, lifting them both. “Understood. I promise, I won’t let you regret it.”


	3. Ropes Unbound

**Ropes Unbound**

“We can still make it by the fourth, we just need to amend our timetable. Here, and here.” Kougami pointed out the chokepoints on the map. It was solid beneath his fingers; a real map of paper, not a holo. “We flank from either side. The tunnels are our best bet. They’ll be expecting it, of course, but as long as we have the Artifact, it’s still to our advantage.”

Sato, his massive arms braced on either side of him as he knelt with Kougami and the others in command around the map, glanced to his right. “You speak freely, Kougami-san. Is this wise?”

Kougami did not move to glance behind him. If he appeared too stiff, well, these men wouldn’t think it out of place. “It is. Believe me, she isn’t a threat.”

“No. An asset.” The slim, limber man who had only ever identified himself as Sear, eyed Akane eagerly. “She’s close to the System, you said? Knows its secrets?”

Kougami’s hackles went up, a wolf to Sear’s fox. “Enough. I’ll question her after this.”

Sear’s gaze drifted back to Kougami. The hunger in them made Kougami sick, and he wondered why he’d never noticed it before. “You need any assistance, don’t hesitate to ask. Or tools. I can provide both, or either.” _And I’d like to watch_ , his eyes said.

 _I’d bet you would, you bastard_. “Thank you, Sear-san. That won’t be necessary. I’ve dealt with Sibyl’s minions before. They’re a tricky breed.”

Sear nodded, but Kougami kept his eyes on the man when he and the others stood to leave. Their tent was small, and he couldn’t keep each man from brushing against Akane’s bound form as they left. She had pulled herself to sitting as best she could, despite the tight ropes around her calves and ankles. She watched each man as they exited, no doubt committing their faces to her impressive memory.

“So.” He turned to her, and kept his tone conversational. “What’s your impression of them, Inspector?”

“No.”

Akane’s mouth was a thin, hard line of refusal. Kougami pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “No? No insights?”

“We’re not going to play that game.” Akane shifted, moved so that she was up on her knees. “If you’re going to work information out of me, at least do it honestly.”

“An exchange, then.” Kougami seated himself amicably across from her, with more grace than a man of his size and strength should fairly possess. “Is that acceptable to you?”

Akane still felt mocked, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of sensing it. “If we’re on opposing sides, then wouldn’t that be a lose-lose for both of us?”

“Maybe. But, as we’ve already established, things aren’t that simple.” Kougami fixed her with a look that went straight to her bones. “You aren’t committed to the System as a true believer, and you’ve made it clear that you don’t think I fully understand why you’re doing this. Maybe there’s some common ground we’re both missing.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re so certain of victory that you’re willing to humor me,” Akane countered. “But alright. I’ll play. What is the Artifact?”

Kougami didn’t flinch. He’d been expecting no less. “A codename. For something that might finally turn the tide in our favor.”

“And who is ‘our’?”

“You got your answer.” Kougami flashed his quickfire grin, all teeth. “My turn.”

Akane glared at him, which only caused his smile to widen. “Fine. Ask.”

“Who knows you’re here?”

He watched her closely. Akane was no longer the naïve, open-faced girl who placed her trust in the System ( _and you. She trusted you_ ), but she had to work to conceal her thoughts. He was no Saiga, but he flattered himself that he could fill in any cracks in her answers if he studied her expression.

She took a moment to school her face, breathing, considering. “I am on an MWPSB-sanctioned mission to gather information on the terrorist organization known as the Sunset Runners. My fellow colleagues at the bureau are aware of my involvement.”

“I see. So you didn’t tell anyone your real objective,” he stated, bluntly cutting through her pretext. “Not smart, Akane. Do you really trust the System to have your back if they decide you’re likely to fail?”

Akane’s slight jawline tightened at the censure. “I don’t see how you’re in any position to be giving me that advice. How well do you trust the men you’re working with? Even if Sibyl is primarily worried about defending itself, you can’t deny that the methods of these Sunset Runners are brutal. Throwing in your lot with people who don’t care about the collateral damage isn’t like you, Kougami-san.”

There – she’d surprised him again, gone on the attack when he’d thought he had her on the ropes. Damn her. He was more impressed and respectful than angry. He was well aware that both emotions put him at a disadvantage. “Isn’t it? Maybe your view of my character isn’t as clear as you think. Are you sure you aren’t letting your biases cloud your judgement?”

It was a petty rebuttal, and he regretted it almost as soon as it left his lips. “Don’t start worrying about the color of my Hue now, Kougami. You’ve been gone over two years. I’d say that’s more than enough time for me to develop a sense of distance and clarity. Wouldn’t you?”

She had no right to demand shame of him. He’d broken no promises. “Fine, then. Let’s go with the assumption that you do see me clearly. What is your explanation for why I’ve thrown in my lot with these dangerous criminals?”

“It’s not that they’re criminals. It’s that they’re careless.”

“Careless?”

Akane’s brow furrowed, her round, young face taking on the mode of deep concentration Kougami had always found it so easy to picture when his mind drifted to her. “Careless of the fallout. They’re dedicated to ending oppression and taking down corrupt systems – I studied their record in the Badlands of Russia and their success against the Mongolian New Republic. But they operate from a completely utilitarian philosophy that sees the sacrifice of individual lives as necessary for the achievement of any change.”

“But the lives they sacrifice are their own,” Kougami countered, falling easily into the give-and-take rhythm of debate. If this had ever been an interrogation, they had long since abandoned the format. “If you know them so well, then surely you know that.”

“Yes – the Sunset Runners make sure those on the frontlines are only those who have enlisted in the struggle,” Akane said, reciting from what Kougami was sure was a copy of the group’s statement. So, that had made it as far as Japan. Interesting. “But,” she continued, easing back into her natural voice, “they have unusually high records of enlistment, don’t they? In any guerilla fight – in any fight – there will be at least three clearly defined groups. Those who are committed to fighting the enemy; the enemy itself; and those who have committed to neither side. Before the Sunset Runners enter into any fray, they contact the resistance-prone, the possible fighters. Initially, these usually comprise under twenty-percent of a given population. But, by the time they have fully infiltrated their target domain, that percentage has jumped to almost a half of the population.”

Akane fixed him with wide brown eyes that didn’t waver, her irises black and thick. “Are they so charismatic that they’re capable of persuading nearly everyone they encounter to pick up arms, risking their lives, and those of their families? Yes, the Sunset Runners don’t put civilians in harm’s way, or use them as shields. But how many of their newly enlisted soldiers are truly fit for battle? How much of that faith is truly earned?”

Chills ran up and down Kougami’s arms, cold as the winters he’d spent in the Mongolian plateau. “So. You don’t believe they’re able to honestly inspire the people to rise with them? That’s your concern?”

“Isn’t it yours? The last time we encountered someone able to persuade people to place their trust in him so thoroughly that they would willingly kill, you threw away everything to put him in the ground.”

Kougami fell back at that, his forearms just catching his weight. She didn’t say it with venom, but soft solemnity. She didn’t let up, either. She was still staring him down, and Kougami still fighting for an answer, when Sota pushed open the tent flap and poked his head inside. “We’re moving out, Wolf 1. Are we bringing the contraband with us?”

“Huh?” It took Kougami a full minute to connect the phrase to the angry, silent woman before him. “Oh – yes. She’s coming with us.”

And he stood up, breaking eye contact with her. As he walked out into the encroaching night he realized he felt relief. She might have no right to demand shame of him, but she evoked it all the same.


	4. Prayers By Night

**Prayers By Night**

Akane might have been dreaming. She was vaguely aware of someone calling out to her, of water all around her, of the head-rush of sinking in too deep. She gasped to draw in air, and the voice grew louder. No – softer, but closer.

“Akane. Akane, wake up. We have to move.”

She rose up from the water and opened her eyes. Her hands reacted, grasping onto the nearest firm surface. Kougami didn’t seem to mind; he let her grip his shoulders as he made quick work of the bonds on her calves. “We need to go. Keep to my side, in my shadow if you can. You’re small, and they might think it’s only me walking around out there.”

Akane squeezed her eyes together, trying to wet out the sands of sleep. Kougami was an outline in the dark of the tent, the knife he used to cut the ties around her ankles a dim glimmer. She felt the cool press of the dull blade against her skin before he pulled back. She was still clinging to his shoulders as he stood, taking her up with him. She let go, stumbling back on tingling legs as her blood flow returned.

Kougami was already holding open the flap of the tent. Akane followed him out into the camp. She did try to press in close beside him, though his constant turning and stopping and starting made it difficult. She was always bumping into him, rubbing up against the rough material of his shirt. His dog tags jangled more than once; she felt that might give them away, but Kougami didn’t appear worried. Akane counted at least ten tents, spread out equidistantly around the forest. She wasn’t sure how to tell when they’d passed beyond range of the men, but finally Kougami came to a stop. He nodded, then turned to her. “Right. Here. This is where I leave you.”

Akane started. “What? Just like that?”

Kougami took a step backwards, and she realize how close they had been standing. “Yes. You can run back to the MWPSB. Tell them you lost your Dominator. Tell them you found the Sunset Runners, and everything you learned. Or hell, tell them nothing. That’s your call.”

“That’s it?” Akane fought to keep her voice down. “You release me back out there, thinking I’ll just run off?”

Kougami looked down at her, out of the corner of his eyes; she could make out that much by the spare, gibbous moonlight. “What – gonna try and capture me again?” She could hear him grinning. “Well, I’m right here. You’re a good fighter – you showed that the last time we met – but you don’t have a weapon, and I do.” He waved the knife between them. “Do you really like your chances here?”

Akane boiled, her entire body insulated from the cold night by an inner coating of fury. “I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I? If you let me go, I could come down here with the full force of the MWPSB, the military. Or, the men back there could discover that you let me go, and turn on you. They could kill you.”

“They could indeed.”

He was looking up and away now, musing. Akane again had the sensation of screaming through water. “And that doesn’t matter to you? At all? You’ll just accept that risk?”

“Risk is a part of my life. Has been for years. I’ve long since accepted where this path I’m on could lead me.”

“Your death.” Akane said it sharply, trying to drive it into him like a knife. “That’s where this will lead. Ginoza was right.”

“Gino, huh? Well, maybe. I imagine he’s learned a thing or two from coming down to my circumstances.” Kougami shrugged, and she was almost certain he winked at her. “Give him my regards, then, and if I do end up dead, tell him not to blame himself like he always does.”

“No! I will not!”

“Keep your voice down!” Kougami glanced back in the direction they’d come. “You only have a short window of time where you can escape. You’re right; I don’t entirely trust these men. Or, rather, I don’t expect them to entirely trust me.”

“And you still expect me to leave?” Akane hissed. At that, Kougami’s forced indifference finally showed a crack. “Why, yes, Tsunemori, I do. You aren’t my master here, and you have no means of forcing me to go back with you.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” Akane pulled herself up to the limits of her small height, and stared him down until he took her meaning.

“You can’t be serious.”

“If you remain here, my mission is unfulfilled,” Akane stated, angry and defiant. “So, I’ll have to remain with you, until another opportunity presents itself for me to gain the upper hand.”

“No. I forbid it.”

“And now who’s trying to force who without authority?” she countered, planting her feet as if for a fight. She didn’t expect Kougami to try and physically force her to leave; but she wouldn’t take the chance that he could surprise her again. “If you’re staying, I’ll just have to stay with you.”

“Dammit, Akane, _no_.” Kougami showed real anger now – not through yelling, but its opposite. Every muscle and fiber of his body appeared to strain to force out his next words in a low, barely steady tone. “These people aren’t like in SEUN. You can’t risk that.”

“But you can?” Akane saw her advantage and pressed. “Now you admit it – these aren’t the same quality of people you’re used to protecting. And, if they’re not, what makes them so worthy of your time?”

“What makes _me_ so worthy of saving _from_ them?” he snapped back. “If they’re so corrupt and dangerous, maybe I am as well.”

“No. You aren’t.” She said it with such instantaneous, complete sincerity, that Kougami almost couldn’t speak. “You aren’t like that. Not like Makishima, and not like them.”

“How do you _know_ , Akane? How well do you know me, really?”

His voice was rough, but there was more in his edge than anger. Akane could hear it; she just couldn’t quantify it. “I know you. You, Kougami Shinya, are not the kind of man to let yourself willingly be pushed into fighting the wrong war. You don’t allow yourself to be used, and you certainly don’t use others. You’re first on the line of battle, and yet you’re never the one to blindly give in to the madness of war. You always have good reasons for whatever you do.” And then Akane felt her tipping point give way, and heard the snap in her voice as she finished, “and the only time you’re stupid is when it comes to putting yourself out there as a shield for others. You’re right, I’m not your master – because you aren’t a hunting dog. You’re not some animal there for others to toss into the fray, or a loose cannon, or a symbol, or a martyr. You’re as human as the rest of us – and you can die just like any one of us, just as easily!”

“Then that’s my choice, isn’t it?” Kougami’s voice was still low, but now unmistakably nasty. “What I choose to do with my life is what makes it valuable, and that’s the one freedom I cherish now.”

“And your life? Your life?” Akane hated this feeling; of her words having no effect, having no appeal. Even with the Sibyl System, a system made up of multiple, brilliant minds, she could find the ways to reach it. And yet here she could do nothing against the hard line of Kougami’s jaw and the ice of his slate-colored eyes, slits of reflected light in the dark. “Your life has no inherent meaning? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Inherent meaning to who? To me? To the system? To society?” Kougami began, and Akane shook her head, fierce and resistant. “No! This isn’t a philosophical discussion, Kougami! I’m not talking about what a man’s life is worth, I’m talking about _your_ life. It has value.”

“Enough for you to put yours on the line? As an equal exchange?” Kougami grunted a laugh, brutal and short. “C’mon, Akane. My life can’t possibly have that much value to you.”

Akane gasped at that, and stepped back. Stray branches cut into her back, through the thin material of her top, scoring her skin. He’d said it so nonchalantly, so blatantly. It was no undercurrent anymore, nothing that could be denied. “You truly have no conception of your worth to the people around you, do you? Do you? Do you ever once stop to consider, in this greater good you’re always fighting for, what your death would do to the rest of us?”

“’The rest of us’?” Kougami was snarling now, hunched above her, a massive, dangerous physical presence. “Don’t overstate your case, _Inspector_. We both know Gino, Shion, Yayoi – hell, even Saiga would go on with their lives just fine if I end up dead.”

Akane now felt like she was looking at him through water, as well as screaming. She had a sickeningly familiar sense of reaching out for someone drowning. “Fine! Fine! Then consider me. You say you respect me. You say I see clearer than you, you say I’m intelligent. Well, then why does my opinion on the value of your life mean nothing?”

“Because you aren’t rating it based on gains and losses relative to what can be won – you’re basing it on your desires. On base sentiment.”

He spat out the last word like it was a curse, and Akane recoiled from the disgust evident in every inch of him. It was as if they very thought of her ranking his life based upon emotion turned his stomach. Akane felt something very essential in her break.

“If – if that's all that human feeling means to you—” She would not cry. She looked down and away, struggling to master herself as she always did. She squeezed her eyes shut, biting the inside of her mouth until she tasted her own blood. “If that’s all our feelings – _my_ feelings, are to you, then you truly _have_ lost what it means to be one of us. If you fight like this, then your principles are no different than those of the Sibyl System. You can’t fight for humanity if you’re not part of us, Kougami. You don't stand above and beyond us. You’re among us. You’re of us. You feel what we feel.”

“And what if I don’t?”

His body was angled away from her. Akane could see the rigidity in him, in every one of his muscles, from legs to throat, strained to perfect stillness. “What?”

“What if I don’t.” It wasn’t a question now. “What if I am not what you think? What if I don’t feel what you think I do? What if you’re fooling yourself. What if I feel nothing.”

Akane gave herself credit – she didn’t sob. She didn’t hide her flushed face, not that he was looking at her to see it. She didn’t beg, and she didn’t crumple. If she had been a fool all along, all these years, and a bigger fool yet to allow herself the admission, then she would accept that. Accept rejection, and all the attendant agony. “Then I’m sorry. Because that would mean you had given up something that you don’t have to sacrifice. And if I don’t know you as I thought I did, then I can’t say why. But if that’s your choice, then you are right – I’m fooling myself to think I could come here and convince you you’re worth saving.”

Even then she waited, hoping he would say anything, even if it was curt, even if it was this fresh new cruelty he was showing her. But Kougami kept his face turned away, hiding his eyes. All that was left for Akane was to walk, as so she did. Slowly, haltingly, but in the direction he’d indicated. The rage and heat had evaporated, leaving her cold. She was without a weapon, without means of contact, and without what she’d come for. So she walked, leaving behind the frozen man she apparently didn’t, had never, known.

She had reached the edge of the tree-line when she heard the rustling behind her, the soft but sure rushing of an oncoming animal. She didn’t have time to dodge or turn before its jaws were on her, its grip tight around her neck, his other hand around her waist, his mouth over hers. Then she was gasping in shock and red-raw desire into his mouth. She was wrong, he wasn’t frozen at all. He was burning where he touched her, hand around her neck like she was prey, the other at her back, supporting her, holding her up. She needed that, because she was in danger of losing control of her legs entirely. And then, when he pressed himself flush against her, she did.

They thumped to the ground, falling together with the skill of practice, letting their hands slap the forest floor and rolling with the momentum. Akane found herself on her back, Kougami above her, braced on his wrists. She was gasping, taking in deep drags of air, drags that smelled like cigarette smoke and gunpowder and his skin. He was staring down at her, gasping as well, his heavy chest rising and falling. Akane could feel the power of it above her, could feel his thighs against hers, holding her in place. His face was shielded by his hair, backlit by the moon, but she could see harshness in the planes of it. The veins in his throat throbbed. He was gritting his teeth, as if still in the midst of a battle. He was looking away from her, again, and something in Akane screamed in protest. She might even have screamed aloud, but if so it was swallowed up when she rose and pressed her lips to his.

He was shocked, and she was mostly inexperienced and unsure, but this, this felt like a fight. She wasn’t a seductress, wasn’t a siren, would never have had this boldness in daylight. But he had attacked her, and her body knew how to respond to an opponent. So when she kissed him it was a challenge, forcing a point. She felt him hesitate, but she also felt him give, and she followed up quickly with her next blow, a hand around the back of his neck, fingers in his wild hair. His reaction drove the rest of the air from her lungs. Kougami dropped his weight, forcing her flat, luring her to arch. He kissed her deeply, giving her no time to pause, a play that turned the tables firmly in his favor. Firmly, firmly. He was so hard, in every inch, in all ways. Akane felt liquid hot and supple beneath him, like molten gold, melding herself to his body above. There was a liquidity in how they moved, writhing now, and it didn’t matter that her experience was scant to nonexistent; she didn’t need training for this. She was clumsy, awkward, too fast, too eager, and it wonderfully, gloriously didn’t matter. Because he was desperately insistent, pulling aside her shirt to press his mouth to her chest, running his long, strong fingers up and down, down, down her legs. He was no less driven than she, and when she fisted his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers he went with a moan more canine than human. Everything was dark, so she never did see how his shirt was removed, if he tore it or tossed it, and if he did the same to hers. But she felt, felt the burning of his skin, slick and surprisingly soft, and the cold steel of his dog tags against her collar bone.

He paused, and she whimpered, trying to search out his lips. She felt his breath by her ear, hot and fast on her neck. “Akane. Akane…listen.”

The last thing she wanted to do was listen to anything but the sound of his reckless breathing and suppressing moaning. She arched up into him defiantly, and was rewarded with Kougami’s thick gasp of surprise and arousal. He responded by grabbing both of her arms and pining them above her head. He found her eyes in the dark by pressing his nose to hers, so close she could taste him in their shared air. “Akane. You…have to be – sure.”

There was effort in his every word, his breathing already so labored, as if he’d taken a wound. But Akane’s stomach and chest were joined with his; she could feel his scars, but he didn’t bleed. “Kougami,” she said, her voice a hiss against his mouth. And then, as her assurance, as her answer, “ _Shinya_ …”

That was enough for him. Now his kisses were hard, unrestrained, with teeth. They left her lips red and bruised, and she was barely recovering from the heady sensation when he released her hands. Hers went instantly to his shoulders, because his were at their legs. The first touch of his calloused palms against her bare thighs worked a high-pitched cry from her. His hands stayed for an instant, and she moaned in protest, sliding her fingers down his neck and to his back. That made his hackles rise and his hips lower, and Akane grasped for his lower back in elated fear when she felt him flex and press up between her, into her.

They were past the point of no return, in a hundred different ways that Akane couldn’t bring to mind because her mind was clear and clouded with the man around her. She was ecstatic and terrified when he began to move. Too slow for him, she could tell, could feel it in the grit of his teeth and the way he leaned all of his weight on his forearms beside her head. She had half-expected pain, had been ready for it, but this was something else. Unusual, strange, uncomfortable even, but not pain – too sweet for that, too extreme, too _much_. It was so far beyond anything she could call up from the sense-memories of all her twenty-seven years. This – was this the sensation that people felt when they were beyond control? What color would her Hue be now? Would it rise with every stroke, with every gasp he let fall, his mouth now rough against her skin, an outlet for him, so he could remain gentle otherwise?

Something was rising within her. She knew, with that last bit of presence of mind she retained, that part of it was physical, a desperate peak that Kougami was racing her towards. One of his hands had traveled down her stomach, and the press of his calloused fingers between her thighs was drawing out the last of her breath, blurring her senses, condensing her entire being into a white-hot pinnacle of need. But there was a twin rising, something beyond the vivid tremors of approaching orgasm, that gave her the strength to grab at his bicep and neck and pull him down into her, hard. He half-screamed then, surprised by her strength and passion, stunned into pursuing his own. Now they were racing together as equals, rough and fast, closer than side-by-side. Her nails found purchase in his skin, digging in until she smelled copper, and when he kissed her again she felt free to scream into him, releasing mere moments before he did. He couldn’t contain his moan, and when he jerked helplessly, his body for once mastering him, she rode it out, her blinding-rich aftershocks paired with a sensation that tasted oh-so-wonderfully like triumph.


	5. Autumn Moon Bright

**Autumn Moon Bright**

They should have been cold by now.

It was certainly cold around them. The winds had picked up, and it was somewhere past midnight in a dank forest, where the ground was still moist from a previous two weeks of rain. They were covered in sweat, drying and chilling their skin, and so they should have been cold.

Alone, they might have been. But their skin was a melding. It met in too many places to be rightly considered separately. As one skin, they shared heat enough to keep back the encroaching ice. They were entwined around each other – her arm around his neck, his under her waist. Her other hand resting on his hip, his free hand placed just below her throat, a solid pressure that her chest had to rise against every time she drew breath. He was watching that hand, and Akane was studying his face.

Neither of them had spoken since it had been done.

“Are you...” Akane swallowed hard to wet her throat when Kougami glanced up. Her vocal chords felt sore. She tasted more blood pouring through her cracked lips as she moved them. “Are you alright?”

Kougami grunted; she realized it was a laugh when she felt his stomach tighten and shiver against her own. “She asks _me_ the question.”

Akane couldn’t read his voice. The chill managed to reach her, frosting the hairs on the back of her neck. “Are you…angry with me?”

He made a noise of surprise, and Akane could just see his eyebrows furrow. His palm slid off her neck. It should have made breathing easier. Instead, she felt the cold air burn her lungs.

“That’d be pretty self-serving of me, wouldn’t it? To engage in this with you, willingly, and then turn around and stick you with the blame? Do you really think I’d do that?”

Her face flushed, a warmth she could have done without. “No, I guess not.”

“I _am_ angry.”

Akane started, even though she had asked the question.

“I won’t lie about that. You here…you and me…this…well, it’s a risk I never wanted to take, precisely _because_ of how dangerous it was for you. I suppose I’m angry at you for making me put you in danger – as convoluted as that sounds.”

Akane relaxed again. “It might be convoluted, but that is just the Kougami Shinya I expect.”

“You were worried I would be something else?”

“No, not like that. I mean…” Akane swallowed. Flushed, again. “I just…wasn’t certain. You did…show me a different side of you.” She was proud of finishing that thought aloud, even as she was grateful that the darkness hid her face. She was sure it was red as blood.

Kougami waited, and Akane could hear the thumping of his heart between them, out of pace with hers now, slower and deeper. “And does seeing this other side of me change your opinion of me overall?”

“No,” she answered quickly, and then realized with a blunt shock how that could be taken. “I mean...not in any negative way! That’s what I mean.”

His stomach shivered against hers again – another brief laugh, sending a stab of heat straight to her core. “Well, that’s flattering to hear, I guess.”

“Sorry, I’m not any good at flattery.”

“I’m glad.”

Akane smiled, and then paused when he didn’t return it immediately. He was very still, waiting again. She was deeply conscious of her fingers against his skin. “I’m not very…I’m not exactly…” It felt cool, his skin, cool against hers. “I know I’m not…exactly experienced, and if I was…was I – because if I wasn’t…I—”

She formed her next words against his lips. She was utterly unprepared for the heat of his mouth, shocking compared to the coolness of his skin. He was ravenously insistent, pressing her down with both arms. He was heavy and Akane realized the full weight of him, how strong he really was. She wondered then if she had ever truly fought him – or, more to the point, if he had ever truly fought her. She was beginning to believe he had always held himself back, just as he did now, breaking the kiss as harshly as he had begun it. He was panting rapidly into her neck.

“Sorry,” he said, voice thick and rough. “Was thinking about doing that…got distracted…what were you saying?”

Akane laughed then, deliriously happy, and threw her arms up around his neck. She flattened her palms, sank her fingers down into his hair, and his breath hitched again. Tentatively, then more boldly, she arched herself up, exploring this strange new power it seemed she had. Kougami grunted into her neck when she found the area of his skin that wasn't so cool. He retaliated by biting her neck where it met her collarbone. Still Akane was not dissuaded, rising against him like water over rocks. She had never been a dancer, but this rhythm seemed innate. Kougami certainly knew it, though she could feel him fighting the pull of his hips. She combated that by kissing down his neck and into his mouth. She savored his moan of protest, using the distraction to roll them over onto their sides. That made it easier to loop her leg over his hip and grind against him. He gasped, his hands going to her waist. Outmaneuvered and outgunned, he used them to drag her onto him. Akane whimpered then, still new to his size. He paused, and that pained her more.

“No...” She pushed back with her hips, chasing the sweetness she'd found before. She was tender and burning, light-headed and without light, sensing her way along his body in the dark.

Kougami held himself still and let her search, his arms trembling with the effort. She started off slow, careful, but grew more sure with every stroke she drew out of him. Each time she went further. Her confidence increased with every shudder he gave, every stab of pleasure-pain that was more pleasure. They began to course through her center like electric shocks, tremors that rolled back her eyes. Kougami was shaking by the time she felt full, open and smooth. He started kissing her hurriedly, and she tasted need.

They were moving beyond, into the place where both gave up control, surrendered to each other so that neither possessed it. His grunts became rhythmic, and she was whimpering something (his name?), repeatedly, more brokenly each time. She held onto his shoulders and he grabbed her lower back, taking the brunt of the harsh forest floor on his arms. She smelled something tangy (blood again?), and stopped trying to fight her cries. Kougami was already panting hard into her chest. She heard a harsh whispered, “ _Akane_ ,” a second before he stiffened. Whimpering, she rode him through his climax, fighting for her own, finding it just as he went boneless in her arms. She collapsed into him, her entire body pulsing and surging, feeling as though she hovered ten feet off the ground. She came down slowly, her bruises tender and sore. Kougami’s heartbeat was still too fast where his chest pressed against hers.

“Are you…” Akane wasn’t sure what to ask. “Shinya?”

He chuckled, haltingly and out-of-breath, into the space between her breasts. “Yes. I think I am still Shinya. Though after that, I can’t be certain.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kougami shifted up her body, wincing as he used his raw forearms to support himself. “Are you?”

Akane stopped, shocked out of her politce, enforced apology, forced to think more carefully. She had missed it. She had missed him. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt either of us. But…” She took a moment to consider, and Kougami waited patiently. She could feel his heartbeat settling, and it relaxed her own. “I can’t regret this. I would be lying if I said I did. And one thing we always had between us was honesty.”

“And now?”

She wished he would say more, instead of always redirecting. “And now? That depends on both of us. One thing I will say.” Here she put steel into her voice. “If you thought that would distract me enough to let you slip off, you’re very wrong. I still have no intention of leaving without you.”

“Is that so?”

Akane scowled. “Are you making fun of me?” she finally demanded. “Because I’m completely serious.”

“I know. I believe you.”

“Then why aren’t you responding?”

Kougami leaned back, resting on his elbows. She felt him relax even more, and when he spoke it was with warm amusement. “I’ve just realized that arguing with you is one of the most truly futile experiences in my life.”

Akane blinked, although by now her eyes had adjusted as much to the dark as they were likely to. She wondered if Kougami had his namesake canine’s gift of sight. Maybe he was grinning because he could see her miffed expression. “Then…you’re not going to try to run away on me? I won’t wake up with you gone?”

He rolled back onto his side, so that his face was inches from hers. She could make out his nose and jawline, see the sparkling of the sweat drops on his sideburns. She opened her mouth to take in the heat from his. It had the faint taste of tar from his cigarettes. He moved his lips – she could feel that – but then seemed to think better of speaking. Instead, he reached around his neck and pulled something over his head. Akane heard jangling, and then felt the cool chain of his dog tags settled around her throat.

“I’ll want these to take back to the camp,” he said. “The men are used to seeing me in them. If I walk around tomorrow without them, they might notice.”

Akane slid her hand up to touch the tags. He had said the words with utmost seriousness, though they both could see through them. Still, she nodded, solemnly, as if accepting a great honor. “Alright.”

“Okay then.”

He placed his much larger right hand over her left, rubbing at the space between her clavicle with his thumb. Akane sank into the touch, and from that into his arms entirely. He lay on his back and pulled her into the curve of his body. With his free hand, he grabbed for a handful of the clothes they had so carelessly discarded. A shirt, pants, something else she couldn't name were flung over Akane. She wasn’t sure how much they would do to hold off the cold, but she couldn’t manage to make herself care. Besides, she was still pleasantly warm, her freshly contented body sated and comfortable against her lover’s. She closed her eyes and let Kougami’s breathing lull her swiftly into sleep. It was remarkable, she though before she went under, how easily the sound of him fit in amongst the noises of the rest of the wild things.


	6. Hunters

**Hunters**

Former Inspector, Current Enforcer Ginoza Nobuchika didn’t miss many aspects of his former position. Oh, he certainly missed the freedom of movement – the ability to go out for food, to wander aimlessly under the night sky, to come and go without supervision. Yet, even with all of Tokyo to wander, he had been imprisoned – by his fear of emulating his father, by his anger towards his friend, by his lack of connection to anyone who mattered, and his inability to help those in his charge. Strangely, being an Enforcer freed him in more ways than he had anticipated. He had come to accept his limitations, and to take small pleasure in the inner release that came with that surrender.

And he certainly didn’t miss meeting with Chief Kasei. The old woman had been cold, cruel, and corrosive to his mental state. Once or twice he had even wondered if she _enjoyed_ provoking and prodding him with the ever-present specter of sharing his father’s fate. Now, he rather assumed she did. He didn’t fancy himself much of a hunting dog, but what little sense of smell he had picked up told him the woman was a case in and of herself.

And so he didn’t miss the stressful, fearful meetings with the Chief. But he _did_ grit his teeth in irritation at the new lack of any connection to higher-up information that came with their loss. The increased frequency of Shimotsuki’s little sessions with Kasei only made him more tense. He could hardly ask his pretentious young superior to share information; she viewed him with more disgust than he ever had Enforcers when he was in her position. If Akane had been present, he could have asked her. But then, therein lies the rub. It was Akane he needed information about.

He was unsurprised to find Kunizuka in Shion’s office, and deeply grateful to find both women clothed. He nodded to Kunizuka, who nodded back – she remained, as ever, a woman of few words. It was Shion who smiled warmly at him, and beckoned him inside.

“Gino.” Her lazy, sensual voice wasn’t made for polite niceties. “Come to finally work out that delicious tension you’ve been carrying? I can’t imagine all that stress is good for the muscles, and you’ve increased _that_ load quite a bit.”

She didn’t mean anything by it, of course, as they both knew. Ginoza just gave the wry new smile he had developed these past years. “Sadly, I think I’ve come to add to my burdens. I was wondering if you had heard anything from Tsunemori?”

The three latent criminals quickly doled out shared glances that even Ginoza, with his difficulty parsing out human communication, could read. There were the usual cameras, of course, and listening devices – but Shion could handle those. It was unlikely anyone was listening, but still no need to risk being overheard.

“Nothing officially, sorry,” Shion said breezily. Kunizuka got up, tossing a carton and chopsticks towards the disposal. As she passed Ginoza, she barely murmured, “She’s got a special line set up, just for Akane. She checks it every night.”

Ginoza made the briefest of nods, and Kunizika left. He proceeded closer to Shion by a few paces. “Nothing officially?”

Shion surreptitiously reached out and clicked a small box on one of her many screens. Ginoza felt a slight shift in the air, as if an intangible blanket had been lowered over the whole room.

“Nothing unofficially either,” Shion broke to him, with a sigh. “Believe me, I worry about her too. There’s too much the top brass isn’t telling us. Not that they’d tell _us_ , anyway, but I get the impression they’re keeping thing from her as well.”

“How so?” Ginoza crossed his arms, but leaned forward. For a woman who reveled in the technical, Shion had always had a surprisingly good handle on people. (He had an idea of how she had gained that knowledge. He made a point not to dwell on it).

Shion lit another of her endless supply of cigarettes. “Well, Akane’s got a certain…face she wears when she thinks something is being deliberately kept from her. Kept from her in a way that she can’t go after it, as an Inspector, can’t solve it. She was wearing that face quite a bit before she got called away on her special mission.”

“Reconnaissance. On the Sunset Runners.”

Shion blew a smoke ring. “Right.”

Ginoza had never inherited his father’s talent, nor had he the willingness to study from someone like Saiga, as others had. But he was enough of a detective to sense the conversation heading to a point. “You think there was more to her mission than that?”

The voluptuous blonde shrugged, readjusting how she lazed in her chair. “Not from the evidence. Everything came through the proper channels. Nothing was even blacked out, or for-her-eyes-only. I got all the same specs she did, sent right from the top.”

“Then, if not from the evidence…?”

Shion took a drag, watching him closely. Ginoza had the sinking feeling that she was trying to tell him something with her gaze, that he was simply too thick to get.

“From Akane. From her whole vibe. She just seemed…more on edge. Usually she’s excited for a challenge, capable of bouncing back to the positive. You know her.” Shion grinned around her cigarette. “But this time…it was like she couldn’t get back to equilibrium. Like there was something driving her and pulling her that, for once, she just couldn’t push past.”

Ginoza felt a sick, uncomfortable twist in his stomach. _Is this intuition?_ If so, he didn’t want to hear it. “Her hue—”

“That’s exactly what she told me to check when I mentioned it to her,” Shion said. “And it was clear, of course. Slightly elevated for her, but nothing off the charts. And that was it. She got her gear and went off into the wilderness.”

Ginoza waited as Shion took a few more puffs of her cigarette, hoping she would volunteer more without his having to ask. “And that’s really it?”

Shion glanced at him sideways, lips pursed as she expelled smoke. “All I’ll say is this. After Akane got the mission from the Chief, she came straight here for information. She wanted just about everything I could give her on the Runners, and not just their military parameters and basic profiles. She wanted everything I had on the people; the people they trained, the ones they recruited, and any and _all_ close associates.”

Ginoza disliked how the smoke in the air tried out his mouth. “Scouting expeditions require a clear understanding of the enemy.”

“She wasn’t prepping to scout,” Shion asserted softly. “She was prepping to hunt.”

Ginoza stiffened, and his metallic fist began to clench of its own accord. Shion was watching her screens, idly clicking her track pad. To anyone viewing them on the monitors, it would appear that she was utterly relaxed. _Casual_ , thought Ginoza, and then tried his best to _un_ think it. _Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?_

“She didn’t say anything significant to me,” Shion continued. “Nothing to indicate she had any inclination of defying the Sibyl defined parameters of her mission. But…I saw that look in her eye. The one you hunters get, when you’ve got a case nipping at your heels. And this expression…well, I’ve only ever seen it twice before. Once, when she led you off after Makishima. And then again, when she headed to Shamballa.”

“Both missions fully approved by Sibyl.” He felt the space of her lack of reply, and filled it with, “Both ones she came back from successfully. Alive.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Ginoza waited, but when Shion next spoke, her voice was light again. “Well, knowing Akane, if anything happens she can handle it. That girl has always proved stronger than any of us thought, huh, Nobuchika?”

Ginoza grunted a response and then stood abruptly. He left the room filled to the brim with choking smoke and the clouded, silent understanding that had passed between the two comrades, that if both times Akane had been hunting, it had been for the same prey.

~

Akane held a new appreciation for the skills of the blind. With her eyes and hands both bound, walking was exceedingly difficult. It didn’t help that many of the men around her were given to jostling her. She imagined they took amusement from roughing up a representative of the Sibyl System. Actually, she didn’t have to imagine – she could hear barely muffled laughter as they shoved her.

“Careful – the ground is rocky here.”

Kougami’s hand on her back steadied her, even as it sent a shock up her spine that spun her head. His voice was low, detached, perfunctory. But his hand lingered on her back. Akane could feel its heat through her shirt.

“She won’t run!” It was a male voice, not one Akane had yet identified. It snorted. “If she’s the best that Sibyl can send, then we won’t even need the Artifact! We can just—”

“Be quiet, Sergei!” That was Sato, the first in command, the man who had chosen not to shoot her on Kougami’s command. “Any more from you, I’ll have _you_ bound and gagged.”

 _Sergei,_ Akane thought, as the men turned to mocking Sergei. _That’s Russian. That answers one question._

“What?”

She started at the sound of Kougami’s voice in her ear. “Huh?”

“The expression on your face – you’re putting something together,” he said, a mere murmur hidden by the joking of his men. “What have you deducted?” When she continued to hesitate, he huffed a laugh. “C’mon. Give me something. I’m supposed to be interrogating you, remember?”

Akane stiffened, the fullness of her predicament finally hitting her. She was trapped with the Sunset Runners, the group she was supposed to be investigating. A group that she knew, most confidentially, most secretly, the System had targeted for elimination. All these men – and the few women she had seen, as dedicated and armed as their brothers – were wanted dead by the System she served. And if any of them knew that, she could be sure of a death, and uncertain of how long it would take. She was truly in enemy hands, even if those hands were currently Kougami’s.

“You’re a mixed group. Some Russians, some Mongolian, some South East Asian…some from as far afield as India. Some of you are clearly from places that have been touched by the Sibyl System, but some of you are too far away for that. For you all to come here, together, to Japan, means only one thing.”

She hadn’t bothered to fully modulate her voice. Akane realized the others had fallen silent only when she came to an abrupt stop, courtesy of the thick chest of the man in front of her. “And what’s that?” Sato, again.

Akane looked up, even though her eyes were useless. “That you fear the Sibyl System spreading. You fear it worse than you fear whatever chaos and oppressive forms of government you’re used to – worse than you fear losing your lives and your homes.”

“Is that so?”

“But it’s more than that,” Akane continued. “The Sunset Runners work with the native populace, to overthrow systems of governance that the people hate. But, you’re not coming here to recruit. That’s because you don’t believe you’ll be able to persuade the people of Japan to rebel with you, even using the means you’ve so successfully employed before. And that means,” Akane finished grimly, “that what you fear – the fear that has driven you to these shores – is that once Sibyl finds its way overseas, the people won’t _want_ to rebel. They’ll accept Sibyl willingly; so willingly that they’ll be immune to your methods.”

There was a beat when Akane thought she heard the giant man laugh. Then her face was a hotbed of pain, and she was bending over, and Kougami’s hand was curled around her shirt, the knuckles of his fist digging into her spine.

“That’s enough, Sato.” His voice was so suppressed it was obvious, shaking with the effort of not being a shout. “I asked her the question.”

“And it was a fine answer,” Sato praised. “I imagine she’ll give us many, many more before we make camp. Continue the good work, Wolf 1.”

Akane could feel his heavy tread as he moved away. She was still huffing through the pain when hands that were not Kougami’s pulled her upright.

“You’re still able to stand,” praised the new voice; male, but softer, with an accent Akane couldn’t place. “That’s impressive. Most men the Commander hits go down and stay flat. You’re very strong, for a woman of your size.”

“Thanks,” Akane said on a hiss of pain. “I think.”

“Oh, I mean it honestly!” praised the gregarious man. “You musn’t think I mock. Strong women are a most glorious thing. The value of strength increases based upon the effort spent acquiring it.”

“I’m sure she’s very flattered, Sear,” Kougami said flatly. “Aren’t you needed up front?”

“Why, yes. I suppose I am.” Akane couldn’t tell if the man were mocking, angry, or genuinely that affable. “Well, I know she is technically the enemy, but I simply do not like not knowing a lady’s name. If you find it out, Kougami, perhaps you will tell me? Until then, I will simply say I find you an honorable opponent, defiant lady.”

Akane could feel the air from his bow, and then his absence; Sear could walk without making noise. “He was—”

“Nothing you should bother with,” Kougami said roughly, practically growling. “I don’t know why I never noticed it before… _stupid_ …”

“Noticed what?” Akane asked, taking care now to keep her voice low as they started walking. Her cheek throbbed. She expected it would bruise.

“He gets a look that isn’t human,” Kougami answered, his hand still on her back, but light, only fingers now. “Like he’s scenting blood, and he’s excited by it. A hunter’s look.”

“I know people who might say _you_ have that same look too.”

Kougami grunts, surprised. “Oh, yeah? A hound still, am I?”

“Ginoza compared you to one off its leash – actually, he said you seemed like a wolf.” Akane chuckled, and then winced at the pain it caused her face. “I suppose you’re sick of that, by now.”

Something cool pressed against her budding bruise – the back of Kougami’s hand. “Stop that,” Akane whispered. “You’re supposed to be my jailer. We have to keep up appearances.”

“We don’t have ice with us,” Kougami said. “And I can’t guarantee any meat to press on it, to make it go down.”

“That’s _fine_ ,” Akane fussed. “Just so long as I’m the only one to get hit. I know you say these people trust you, but that’s no reason to give them food for suspicion. Either take your hand away, or use it to hit me.”

“You spend too much of your life worrying over me.”

The words were flat and unembellished, easy enough to let pass by. But Kougami’s deep, rough-hewn voice lingered on them, investing them with too much significance for Akane to miss. When he took away his hand, Akane had to bite back a moan of loss. Even as he pulled away, she had been pressing into him.

They walked in silence for hours, or what seemed like hours. Akane’s ability to discern time was taken along with her sight. Yet the cooling in the air told her it was night when the Runners stopped to break for camp.

“You’re moving away from the main cities,” Akane noted. “So far out of reach of drones…but you landed on one of the main ports…hmm…”

Kougami laughed outright, just managing to cover it up in his arm. “You never stop, do you? Maybe this was your plan all along – trick me into taking you with me, and solve the mystery from within.”

Akane flushed, despite his easy tone. “I hope you know my plan was only ever to bring you back. I never…I would never have manipulated you like that.”

Kougami had stopped laughing, but now she felt him truly pause. She heard an intake of breath, as if he was readying to reply, and then he stopped again. An outbreath. “I’m sorry.”

He sounded hurt, or heated, or something more, but before Akane could say anything, a female voice sounded behind her. “Wolf 1. We’re here to take the prisoner off your hands.”

“What? Where?” Kougami demanded. Akane could hear two pairs of feet behind her, one in heavy combat boots, the other in lighter wear. “On whose orders?”

“Sato’s.” The other woman spoke. Her voice was husky and clipped. “He wants her in the tent by Jun’s, off to the side flank. She’ll be between Jun’s tent and ours.”

Akane could almost feel Kougami weighing his options. “You all seem pretty comfortable giving your names,” Akane said into the silence. “So I’m assuming they’re all either ones you’ve chosen, or are untraceable in some way. In that case, you can call me Akako. What are your names?”

Akane could hear the two women muttering to each other. “Madhuri,” the one with the clipped voice said. “And this is Yanin. You don’t have to worry about any of the men bothering you if you come with us.”

 _But if I didn’t, I might?_ Akane considered what it meant that the only two women she’d seen in this band shared a tent. Maybe they were friends, or like Shion and Yayoi. Or maybe, men in war, no matter how idealistic, were still men in war.

That led her thoughts back to Kougami, just as she was being led away from him. Madhuri and Yanin each had a hand on either arm, but Akane could still feel the imprint of Kougami’s hot against her back, cool against her cheek. One of the women stopped, and there was the rustling noise of a tent flap opening. “Here,” Madhuri said, and guided Akane inside.

Akane let herself be moved into the tent, and then situated against one of the poles. Her hands were pulled behind her back, and she felt ropes being wrapped around her ankles. “Please,” she requested. “Can you remove the blindfold?”

There was another moment of delay, and then cool, rough hands removed it. Akane blinded, but it was dark enough within the tent that her eyes adjusted quickly. Madhuri kneeled before her, a stout Indian woman with badly cut hair and a red bandana wrapped around her throat and upper chest. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Madhuri frowned at Akane. “You’re very polite for a prisoner. No swearing, begging. That how they teach you to be in the Sibyl System?”

“In a world with very little crime, people have little need of swearing or begging. Politeness happens as a force of habit,” Akane responded. “It also might be a quirk of the Japanese. I can’t be sure. I’ve only been outside of the country once.”

“Heh!” Madhuri snorted, looking behind Akane to Yanin. “Doesn’t that sound nice, eh? No begging, no swearing, everyone treating each other politely. You want to live in that world, Yayi?”

Yanin pulled the ropes tight around Akane’s wrists, burning a red line into her skin. “No one lives in that world. People just like to dream and tell themselves pretty lies.”

“Ah!” Madhuri waved her hand towards Akane. “Well, polite girl, you aren’t in your world anymore. But, you stay inside here and there will be no need for swearing or begging, eh? In here you are protected.”

Madhuri stood up, giving Akane a good look at the Beretta strapped to her heel. Both women left the tent chuckling and speaking in a rapid, many-pitched language Akane couldn’t translate.

 _In here you are protected_. So the women here didn’t trust their men? Did any of the Sunset Runners fully trust each other? And how many of them were from different countries? How long had they been together, and if they weren’t heading for the cities, then what was their next target?

They were all deeply important questions, worthy of Akane’s careful consideration. Unfortunately, her mind refused to focus on the grand, large-scale issues, preferring to turn over and over again the very personal revelation she’d recently experienced.

Her thighs were still sore. Her back ached, and she had bruises in places she couldn’t see without a mirror. Her breasts were tender. Her lips were bit to shreds. All of those things combined should have been more painful than the blossoming bruise on her face, but they weren’t. Taken together, feeling them brought her right back to that paroxysm of ecstasy she’d had on the forest floor. Madhuri and Yanin were well-meaning, enemies though they were. They assumed she would be glad of their careful watch, keeping her protected and the men at bay.

They didn’t know that when it came to one man, she had no desire to hold him at bay. She didn’t want protection. She didn’t want to go back to her world, the dream world, the polite world. She was awake now, alive and awake. She never wanted to go back.


	7. Taste Your Heart

**Taste Your Heart**

 

Kougami Shinya was not a lustful man. That had been a mantra he had kept to himself throughout his travels. Indeed, others had borne it out. While crossing India and Tibet, his rejection of the advances of the women who made themselves available to him earned him the nickname ‘Monk’ from some of the men he guided (and some less choice titles from women he’d spurned.) He’d had a particularly uncomfortable night when some very grateful Gobi desert tribesmen had attempted to repay him for his aid against a paramilitary group with a handsome young teenaged boy. He’d made his displeasure with the offer clear, and then quietly given the boy what money he had and slipped him out and away. Soon, those who followed him simply accepted that Kougami Shinya had no interest in women. If you wanted to thank him, you gave him a book, preferable a rare, paperback one, and left him to read it. Alone.

He had become so accustomed to this view of himself, that he’d begun to believe it. He had no time for women, no overwhelming need for them that drove him to make stupid decisions, like so many he’d had to chastise. Perhaps his desire had bled out of him even before he’d fled Japan. With Sasayama’s death, hadn’t he barely looked at a woman twice? He had other, grander, more deadly pursuits. Sex was something he didn’t need or yearn for anymore, if ever he had. That was the understanding he had come to. He was too much a creature of deeper, darker obsessions, to feel the pangs that drove so many others off course.

How gloriously, arrogantly shortsighted of him. Yes, he was not driven by lust as other men. But he _was_ an addict. Nicotine and revenge had been his drugs after Sasayama, and then a devotion to justice and his comrades after Japan. But lust had not abandoned him, had not left him free as he had so haughtily told himself. It remained within him like any other strain of addiction, waiting for just the right cocktail to enflame it. Akane Tsunemori, thin and delicate as a butterfly needle, had only needed to find a vein.

“Kougami?” The woman looking up at him asked softly. And she was a woman – that fact made everything both easier and harder. “Shinya?”

He let the tent fall closed behind him as he stepped completely inside. She’d been freed of her blindfold, but he knew from her voice that she couldn’t truly see him. Still she had known him in the dark. Of course she had.

Her breathing quickened when he kneeled before her. He reached out, and when she did not take up his hand, he moved to touch her face. She was not blindfolded, but he could hear from the hitch in her breath that she was bound. His hands moved down her face, over the fine curve of her neck, and to her waist. Methodically, practically, he found the knots that held her to the post. He pulled the knife he concealed in his boot out, and, finding the weakest point, slashed the bindings.

Akane came loose, falling into his arms. He tried to catch and steady her. But how is such a thing to be done, when he is fundamentally unsteady himself? He could feel it, in the way his fingers pressed her too tightly, then too softly, his hands shaking. He felt her hand on his chest, working its way up to his face. “Kougami?” she whispered in the dark.

No. Kougami is her friend; her teacher; her comrade in arms. He can’t be any of those things right now. He’s not sure what he is, with the new obsession burning through his veins like some over-potent liquor, but he is not Kougami. “ _Shinya_ ,” he hissed, hoarsely, almost angry. “I’m Shinya to you.”

If she was shocked by how heatedly he kissed her, how desperately, it didn’t prevent her from returning it. She was not, as she had tried to say, experienced, but she has always risen to any challenge. Smarter, braver, stronger than almost anyone he knew, _this_ was no different for her. It was an insult to hold himself back, as he was doing, gritting his teeth when her fists curled in his hair, his arms rigid when she pressed against him. Was he trying to stop this, even as he had begun it? How dare he come to her so torn and tortured with uncertainty? Ah. Because he hadn’t been able to stop himself. _That_ was why he was now putting them both in danger of discovery, falling onto his back and pulling her down with him.

She’d learned boldness from him – no. No, that does her a disservice. She was always bold inside; he’d simply been the turnkey that unlocked it for her, as he had unlocked the door to his world, allowing her into the dark, sinister abyss that followed him with its single glaring eye. She had already worked her hands under his shirt, running them over the planes of his chest, feeling his angles, tracing his scars. Somehow that made him harder than anything else; her quick-learned bravery, and the gentleness she never lost. And yet he still tried to hold himself back, damn him. He buried his head in her slim, perfect neck, and thought about how breakable it was.

But he isn’t in control. He knew that, had known it since he found himself pacing his tent all through the night, unable to sleep, uncalmed by smoking, incapable of turning his mind away from her. He’d found himself at the flap of her tent almost as if he’d dreamed himself there. He wished it were a dream. Then he wouldn’t have to smother his groans into her now bare chest. He didn’t want to. He wanted to moan freely, to give her every whimper and cry she worked out of him, when her small, strong hands followed the flush of his blood down his hips. He wanted to lick her name up and down every inch of her body, until she screamed.

But that was impossible. And so he placed a hand over her mouth firmly, and felt her breath quicken against his palm when he divested her of her clothes. He kissed down her stomach, over the strong muscles of her abs, which he knew instantly had been gained through hours of practice fighting. They simply had that familiar feel. He moved down lower, and his hand released her mouth, slowly enough that she took his intention. He could feel her biting her lip to hold in her sounds, and his hand drifted down her throat, running hard fingers over her too-rapid pulse. Then he braced both hands on her thighs.

He could feel her fling one hand up to cover her own mouth. The other went into his hair, tugging hard, and he groaned into her. _Yes – despite it all you’re still just a dog searching for a master, aren’t you?_ _Oh, how we learn to love our leashes_. Kougami ignored that internal voice, the one that sounded so nauseatingly like Makishima, putting all of his focus toward the woman writhing beneath him. He was aware that it was perverse, to try to make her scream when she would have to swallow them for both their sakes. Still he did, with a fierceness he couldn’t quite comprehend himself. He lapped at her, feasting like an untrained beast, and wondered how much of his humanity he had truly discarded in fleeing civilization. And then all thought was pushed aside, bleeding into agonizing, overwhelming sensation as Akane began to crest. He gripped her legs tighter as she began to quiver. "Please-" he heard her gasp out above him, followed by a series of utterly obscene, beautifully smothered gasps. Please, he echoed her silently, and wished for once he knew what he was begging for.

Kougami rode out her climax as she arched up, drinking deeply. He found himself thrusting uselessly against the ground - it was a painful, frustrating thing, and yet he relished it. Somehow it felt right that he should go unsatisfied. When she at last went limp, he crawled up over her and lay down at her side. “Akane,” he murmured, for the sheer, decadent pleasure of hearing her name. He felt her turn into him. When her hands found the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled, he went to her willingly. He rested his head against her chest and closed his eyes, savoring the steady strength of her heartbeat compared to his own.


	8. Tear My Way In

**Tear My Way In**

 

“Do you trust me?”

Akane twitched, Kougami’s question a warm murmur against her skin. “What?” When he didn’t repeat, she rose up slightly. “What do you mean?”

Kougami braced himself on his hands, and pushed up off of her. His head still hung, his hair obscuring his eyes. “Do you?”

When she didn't answer, his lips quirked up into a smile. “Maybe a better question is why you would.”

“Kougami—” When he flinched at the name she amended. “Shinya. Why are you asking me this now?”

He turned his head, looking away from her even though he was already not meeting her eyes. “You’re right. I should have asked you this before.”

Akane pushed herself up onto her forearms. Her utterly bare skin pebbled with cold. “If you’re asking me if I regret this, I thought I had made my answer clear.”

His shoulders tensed up, like a dog about to spring. And then they eased, and Kougami sighed, rolling over onto his back beside her. “No. I guess I was hoping that you’d cast me out, and let me off the hook.”

Akane frowned. “Are you then…not happy with this? With me?”

Kougami was quiet for so long Akane wondered if he had heard her. “I’m trying to think of an answer that is more than me rolling over, kissing you, and beginning this all over again.”

“I wouldn’t object to that.”

Even in the dark, Akane could see his breath quicken in the rise and fall of his chest.

“You should. This is dangerous for both of us, and you’re the clear-headed one. You—you should be the one to decide how far this goes. If it ends.”

Akane shot upright. “You—you mean you want—”

“No. I don’t. I’m just saying…Damn.” Kougami exhaled. “I shouldn’t be the one to say anything. I can barely focus right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Akane apologized, and he finally turned to look at her. She was thankful that her eyes had adjusted enough to see his. “Why?” he asked.

She had given him half a dozen answers to that very same question since the first time he had asked it. But it was all the same, always – wasn’t it? She apologized out of shame, assuming it was needed, while he acted as if that shame did not exist. And here, why should it?

He seemed to realize she was going to kiss him only seconds before she met his lips. He returned it, open-mouthed and gasping, one hand coming up to gather her hair possessively tight at the back of her neck. When he used it to pull her gently back, Akane couldn’t help her whine of protest. “What…why?”

“Believe me,” Kougami said, his mouth so close his lips touched hers as he spoke, “I don’t want to. The last thing I want to do is move from this spot. But if I know Madhuri, she’s probably getting ready to do her rounds again. I can’t be here when that happens.”

Akane made another small sound as she looked up at him, eyes wide to try and read his. He wasn’t already pulling away, and she wondered, with a stab of heat to her core, if she had the power to _make_ him stay. She was sorely tempted to try it, but as the dizzy, tender warmth of her orgasm faded her rational mind reasserted itself. He was right. He had to go. They couldn’t be caught like this.

Akane leaned back away from him. Kougami extracted himself from her, slowly. Akane listened to his sounds of difficulty with a jealous pleasure, and then flushed with embarrassment at herself. Still she couldn’t resist looking up at his form as he stood.

“You should dress,” he said. “And retie your bonds.” He paused, and Akane breathed into the silence to will from it more.

“If I were a better man, I would help you.”

Then he was gone.

* * *

 

If he were a better man. If he were a stronger man. If he were a braver man.

Kougami left the tent on cat-feet; he had walked there barefooted. He made no sound. Alone, he couldn’t ignore himself, no matter how he tried.

_If you were the man she thought. The man she trusted_.

Kougami was almost thankful when his senses alerted him to someone following him, if only to take him out of his own mind. He moved a few steps past his shadow, before almost casually tossing his arm around to take it by the neck.

His shadow ducked, and came up behind him. He pivoted and kicked out. It avoided him again, but he caught sight of its shape as it slid back into a grounded fighting position. Now he knew her. _Damn. Why you?_

He lunged at Madhuri, feinting to her left, forcing her to block his right elbow. He tried to snake his other arm out for her throat, but she dodged. He tried to come from above, using his superior height, hoping she would block again and give him a chance to catch her arms. Instead she twisted, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and flipping him over her hip.

Kougami slapped the wet grass as he rolled. He was on his feet again in a moment, moving around her warily. His mind raced, as he fought to keep his adrenaline under control. She hadn’t called for help. She was alone. He leapt, trying to hit her with a flying kick. She skipped away easily, while he almost slipped landing on the dewy ground.

He abandoned the kicks she was too adept at dodging, driving at her with a series of strikes aimed at her sides and head. She slapped them away, redirecting their force, and he winced when she loudly clapped before hitting back. He had height and weight on her, but she was fast and her accuracy seemed utterly unimpaired by the dark. When she landed a blow to one of the pressure points in his right thigh, he let out a hiss, knees nearly buckling. Gritting his teeth, he put more intensity behind his blows. Kougami knew she kept a _kadtaram_ dagger on her at all times. It was short and sharp, almost invisible in her hand until it was buried in her enemy. He’d seen her kill with it, quick and decisive and completely without remorse.

He brought all his skills to bear now, desperate to end this. On her next spinning strike, he let her land a particularly painful hit to his neck, so that he could catch her forearms. He gripped them hard and applied all his weight to push her down. Madhuri appeared to let him, giving way. Kougami recognized the danger only once she had already flung her legs up and around his neck. The momentum pulled them both down, and he found himself flipped again. His shoulder took the brunt of the fall, protesting with a stab of pain as he rolled, yet again. He emerged in a crouch, hands at the ready.

“This is wonderful exercise.” Madhuri’s tone was casual, light, although Kougami could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “But if we continue on, it will defeat the purpose.”

“What purpose?” Kougami demanded, alert for any movement. He didn’t think she had drawn her dagger, but he hadn’t been able to pin-point where it was on her either.

Madhuri made the sharp tsk he’d heard from more than one woman in the Deccan. “You don’t want lots of noise, eh? Not when you were so careful to sneak out of her tent so quietly.”

Kougami tensed, taking the blow like it was physical. “You saw – what?”

“Yanin is in there already, retying her bonds,” the Indian woman said in reply. “With any luck, no one will notice the brave leader making his way back from his captive’s tent. And even if they do, leaders are forgiven such things.”

“You don’t understand.”

“The young woman in there is known to you,” Madhuri stated. “You care deeply for her. You are lovers.”

“Okay – apparently you understand better than me.” Kougami slowly lowered his hands, and then reached out up to scratch his hair. “Do you intend to gain anything by this information?”

Madhuri grinned; he could see her teeth in the dim moonlight. “Perhaps. You will have to wait and be on guard, eh?”

“I need to know _now_ ,” Kougami said with low urgency. “If you turn in Aka—” He caught himself. “If you say anything about this, they’ll blame her.”

Madhuri’s hefty shoulders twitched, and then lowered. Kougami had never realized that she was tensed – it seemed her natural state was alertness. “ _I_ know. You don’t need to tell me.”

“Will you?” Kougami felt he was getting at something. He had never been close enough to this woman to truly consider her, but he had never viewed her as an enemy. “Madhuri-san—”

“I am not going to condemn a woman for taking a man to her bed. Or tent.” Her smile flashed up briefly, like a fish darting through water. “What you have between you is yours.”

Kougami wasn’t convinced. “Why?”

“Heh? Why?” Madhuri tsked again. “Maybe I like you. Maybe I like the girl. Maybe I don’t want to see you both killed for this, eh?” She let the answers hang for a minute in the frigid air, and then added, “Maybe I have my own reasons I keep to myself.”

That, at last, relieved some of Kougami’s fear. “War stories?”

The Indian woman regarded him with tilted head, before turning on her heel. “There is peace that’s worse than war," she said, and then walked off.

Kougami let her go.


	9. Claw Your Skin

**Claw Your Skin**

 

Shimotsuki Mika closed her eyes and braced herself, before stepping up to the automated doors. They opened, and she walked as boldly as she could manage into Chief Kasei’s office. It was Chief Kasei – that was what she reminded herself every time she entered. It was a reminder to forget, and Mika held to it dearly, as the simulacrum of the old woman beckoned her closer.

“Inspector Shimotsuki. Do come in. I expect this visit means you have something of _value_ to share?”

Mika paused and bristled at the callback to her previous attempts to fulfill her duty – attempts which Sibyl – which _Kasei_ – had found lackluster. But she steeled herself with the knowledge that _this_ , the newest nugget she had gleaned, _must_ be of worth. “This concerns the surveillance of the latent criminal Karanomori Shion.”

“Yes?”

Mika swallowed, hard, watching the Chief raise a brow. She always had the sneaking suspicion the woman was chronically _bored_ by her very presence, as if comparing her to another and finding her wanting. Mika bit the inside of her cheek at just where that thought led. “Our initial scans of her domicile turned up nothing out of the ordinary. But I went in myself, examining her rooms by hand. I was able to find an outdated kind of tracker, using a radio signal that was hidden beneath the constant chatter from the other systems. She apparently combined the old micro-chip technology with a digestible tracker of her own design.”

Chief Kasei raised her other brow. “Indeed. And did you bring the source of the signal?”

“Yes, sir.” Mika stepped forward and took the small device from her MWPSB coat pocket. It was a cobbled-together piece of equipment that resembled the old channel switchers from the beginning of the last century; its only sign of life was the small green light of one of its buttons. Mika presented it to the Chief with a bow, laying it on the table. She waited for the old woman to take it.

Kasei glanced down at the fruits of Mika’s labor. Mika felt herself clench her fists, biting back resentment, as the chief surveyed it with something like mild amusement. “So. This is the means our enterprising technician is using to keep up with Inspector Tsunemori.”

“Yes, sir. And there’s more. I’ve been monitoring all of Tsunemori’s underlings, not just the lab technician. The Enforcers Ginoza and Yayoi both appear to have more information regarding Tsunemori’s actions in Shamballa than they should as per their registered access. And the logs note that Tsunemori made an unscheduled visit to the latent criminal Saiga Joji just prior to her leaving on her mission and—”

“Yes, thank you. That will be enough, Inspector Shimotsuki. You are dismissed.”

“—and she – wait, what?” Mika shook herself, trying to recover from the sudden halt to her flood of information. “But – Chief Kasei—”

“You’ve done admirable work,” Kasei said lazily, angling her body away from Mika. “Please continue with your surveillance of Tsunemori’s associates. That is all.”

Mika trembled with indignation, and for brief moment of insanity, considered questioning the Chief. Kasei fixed her cold, slate-colored eyes on Mika’s, narrowing them as if she were a predator considering the worth of the prey before her. Mika remembered, despite all of her best efforts to the contrary, what truly hid behind the icy woman’s form. “Y—yes, sir.” She saluted, and then turned and walked for the doors, using every ounce of discipline she possessed not to run.

Kasei rolled her eyes as soon as the doors slid shut behind the little inspector. “Still so proper. Tedious.” Kasei dismissed the banal pawn from her thoughts as she placed a hand on Karanomori’s device. She tapped it once, grinning in humor shared by the thousands of other brains in the System, and then opened her drawer. From it she extracted the device’s compliment, the undetected shadow version that silently fed on Karanomori’s invention, syphoning the data of the wayward Inspector’s whereabouts to the computers that fed Sibyl.

“So. Have you found what _you’ve_ been tracking, Akane?” Kasei stroked the illicit device with tapered, unfeeling fingertips. “Are you keeping it close by you? Are you leading it here?”

~

Akane tried not to fight back when hands pushed her down, guiding her blind-folded to sit. She heard the clanging of pots around her, the sounds of a small fire being kindled. The tiny army had ceased its daylight march for lunch. Akane’s stomach growled, and she felt someone finger her blindfold. “Should we take it off?” said a male voice she hadn’t put a name to yet. “Or watch her try and eat without seeing?”

There was movement near her, and then the sound of the first man being pushed aside. Big, calloused hands pulled off Akane’s blindfold. She blinked into the light as Sato’s face swam into view. “Get her some food, Park,” the commander ordered. “And do it without speaking. In fact, bless us by not speaking for the rest of the day’s march.”

Park, a skinny, hyperkinetic young man with spiked hair and dragon tattoos on his hands, blanched. “Commander—”

“Oh. Did I develop a stutter suddenly?” Sato questioned without deigning to look behind him. “Am I unclear? I know you will not make me repeat myself. That wouldn’t do.”

Park shuddered and then scowled, biting his lip. He glared at Akane before jogging off towards the now boiling pots.

“Manners,” Sato said, crossing his bulky arms as he stared in bemusement down at Akane. “The very first casualty of war.”

Akane took her time to examine the Sunset Runner’s leader in full. He was tanned and lightly scarred along his powerful arms, with a small tattoo of what might have been a heart peeking out from under the upper part of his jacket, along his collarbone. He dressed simply, the same heavy vest and cargo pants as the rest of the men. His only distinguishing adornment was his heavy utility belt, which held several knives. He had placed his gun off to the side, though Akane could tell, from her training with Saiga, that a smaller pistol was strapped to his left thigh, and a knife concealed in his right boot.

Sato’s square, severe face was purely plain, his large, blunt nose most likely broken in his youth, if the odd angle of it was any indication. His hair was buzz-cut short, and his chin well-shaven. There was nothing in his features to recommend him – he was neither handsome, nor pretty, nor even ugly enough to register in a crowd. And yet his entire being radiated the kind of strength that drew others close, as if they might feed off of it, becoming larger by lying in its shadow. _In that,_ Akane thought, forced by her own estimation to admit it, _he and Kougami are alike._

“Will you take the human casualties as lightly when you launch your war here?” Akane asked bluntly. She didn’t sugar-coat or tamper down her words; if he was going to strike her again for speaking, she wanted to get it over with from the start.

Sato didn’t flinch. “You think _we_ launched this war?”

Akane had to be careful. “That will be the perception. If you march into the capital city, or any city, declaring yourselves the liberators, all you’re going to do is send the crime coefficients of innocent people spiking. And then, when those people are punished, _you’ll_ be the ones held responsible.”

Sato nodded, as if Akane had presented him with a vaguely amusing proposition. “So that’s how the System thinks we’ll do it. Wonderful. Thank you, Ms Akako. That is quite helpful.”

 _Dammit!_ He _read_ me _._ Akane caught sight of Kougami from across the now crackling fire. Sato easily followed her gaze, and beckoned her lover over. “Come here, Kougami-san. Our new friend is engaging in a philosophical discussion on the value of human life. It is quite illuminating, to hear from one trapped in such willing ignorance.”

Akane tensed against her bonds in anger and humiliation. Kougami reluctantly prowled towards her, drawing the gaze of many towards their leader. Akane could see Madhuri fall silent and hold up a hand for Yanin to stop speaking as she too looked their way.

“Well?” Sato kneeled down to crouch before Akane, and smiled thinly. “Don’t let us stop you, Sibyl citizen. Educate us. Scold us. Enlighten us about the errors of our ways.”

Akane scanned the now waiting Sunset Runners. Most had fallen silent; some were muttering, or grinning. Madhuri and Yanin had their hands near their waists, where she expected they had knives hidden. The arrogant boy, Park, was standing beside Sear; the first looked on her with disgust, the latter with something akin to anticipation.

And then there was Kougami. He stood with hands in his pockets, leaning backwards, the picture of casual, calm disinterest. Only his steely blue eyes betrayed him. He didn’t move his lips, didn’t shake his head the slightest bit, and yet Akane could read the message in his eyes as loudly as if he had shouted: _No._

She turned back to Sato, who was still waiting for her reply.

“You’re right.”

Whatever they were expecting, it wasn’t that. Akane could practically feel the ripple of shock her words caused the rebels.

“The Sibyl System is flawed; deeply, perhaps utterly, and more than you know. It holds justice at gunpoint, and deprives us of our innate right to govern ourselves – and learning how to govern ourselves, how to choose what is right, is the bare essential struggle towards humanity that thousands have fought and died for. The System disdains that struggle; it leeches the humanity from those under it, by removing from them the decision to act as lawful, moral beings, and trapping them in a world where their choices can have no meaning.”

Akane set her jaw, and raised her head and her voice.

“But you’re also wrong. You’re wrong if you think you can build anything like a better world on the ashes of this one. We don’t move forward by overthrowing imperfect systems – all we do is push ourselves back into chaos. And in that chaos, we lose all the accumulated wisdom we have gained as people, about how to build a world that is just for all of us. Within every imperfect system there are gains made, things we learn and cling to as human beings because they are the best ways we have to live with each other. When you burn all of that down in the hopes that something better will rise, all you do is set us back to zero – and nothing just is ever built on the bodies of the innocent.”

Sato did show surprise then, and then astonishment, and then anger. And then he laughed. “Oh! But this is amazing! We don’t merely have some docile little Sibyl slave here. Here, we have a true idealist!” He slapped his knee, and looked almost fondly on Akane’s stony expression. “Well, little idealist. Let me share with you a secret, since I now believe you can understand it. No one in your world is innocent. Every last one of you is complicit. You all hid away in your glass cage while the rest of us burned. You have all the same faults as every society – oppression, deception, a ruling and an underclass. We do not come to apply bandages to a rancid wound. We come as a scourge, to bring the whole edifice crashing down.”

Akane’s gaze went instinctively to Kougami, looking for denial, for confirmation, for explanation. When Sato marked her gaze, he turned to the former Enforcer. “Eh? She seems surprised anyone from her society could turn against it, Kougami-san.”

“That isn’t—” Akane swallowed hard, fast, when Sato and Kougami turned back to her. “It isn’t – of course people will want to turn against Sibyl. But you’re talking about wanton destruction. All of you—” She _wouldn’t_ look at Kougami. She turned to Madhuri and Yanin instead. “You can’t want to just rip a whole civilization down! You can change it—alter it – work with the people who are against it—”

“There are never enough.” Madhuri grimaced, hands tightening on her hips, muscles flexing. “Never enough to matter. There’s always too many at the top, their heels on the necks of the people below. And the people below them will cut the throats of those around them rather than be on the bottom. It was always this way.”

“But it can change,” Akane argued vehemently. “Every society has problems, but they aren’t static – people created them, and we can evolve them. Every society needs those willing to fight to push them forward.”

“Every society needs people to spit on.” And Madhuri spat on the ground for effect. “Everyone, everywhere. No people ever give them up. To be civilized, to be _peaceful_ , people need someone they can hate. People always need someone to be miserable so they can be happy. People are happy to have a heel on their own neck, if they only can have their foot on the face of another.”

There was no use in speaking against her. Akane barely knew the Indian woman – she didn’t know Madhuri’s age, or her last name. But she knew the look in her eye, the certainty in the entire rigid cast of her body. She had seen it in Kamui; she had seen it in Makishima. She had seen it in Kougami. Madhuri’s beliefs didn’t come from books, or theology, or the teachings of a mentor. She hadn’t decided upon them because she had come to her best conclusion after leisurely deliberation and logical thought _. She hasn’t chosen them at all. She carries them because they have been placed on her back, burned or bludgeoned into her very being. She isn’t thinking about them or questioning them. Someone made that truth a part of her – forced it on her_. _Maybe she hated them then, but she clings to them now. Nothing I say will be heard_.

“You see?” Sato brought her attention back to him. “No one here has any illusions about who we are or what we’re going to accomplish. Pretty dreams about honor and justice were stolen from us. We have seen the truth of the world, and chaos is the new form, the final form. But with it is freedom. We come to bring that one gift to the very place that opposes it, for they are the ones who most need it. And we are generous, Ms. Akako,” he said with a smile that was only half threat. The other portion, the one that truly sent shivers up Akane’s spine, was kindness. “We come to bring that gift to everyone we meet. Even, I think, to you.”

~

Akane hadn’t been ready for Sato – she would neither deny it, nor console herself with platitudes about the unfairness of her situation. She’d been caught unawares, and she’d paid the price in full, out there in front of the troops. They’d practically unmasked her. One more such encounter, and she would lose more than her pride.

But Tsunemori Akane was a quick study. So when her interrogator stepped into the tent that night, she was on her feet. Though her hands were bound and a rope linked her to the central pole, she had set her shoulders. She would not, _will_ not, be taken unawares this time.

He stalked around her first, not speaking. Akane usually found the wolf comparisons tiresome – everyone made them, and no one contested them, so why must they all _repeat_ them as if it were a new revelation each time? But he _was_ wolfish now, lean and restless and stalking ever closer to her with eyes cold as any predator.

Akane stared back. “Did you come to disabuse me of my pretty dreams about honor and justice?”

Kougami stopped prowling. “No,” he said. “My men expect me to interrogate you. I’m supposed to glean whatever useful information from you I can.”

His voice was stern and dispassionate, so Akane saw no reason not to answer him in kind. “Don’t let me prevent you from keeping up appearances before _your men_ then, Kougami-san. Question me.”

“Did you accomplish anything, _Inspector_?” Kougami’s tone was rough. “Did you gain anything back there? Or was it just so important to defend the System that you had to throw yourself into the line of fire, and damn the consequences?”

“I wasn’t defending the System. You know that wasn’t what I was doing. And yes – it was important. These people are launching a war. If I can stop that, in any way, I have to try.”

“Why? Because only Tsunemori Akane is fit to judge what is lawful? Because only she can stand between the System and the rest of us?” Kougami snarled, hackles rising. “Because you have to be the one to save us all?”

“Angry at me?” Akane challenged. “For contradicting your team? For fighting them?”

“For needlessly arguing with the people who hold your _life_ in their hands? For behaving recklessly – stupidly?” Kougami’s largest vein throbbed. “ _Yes_.”

Akane felt rage curl in her stomach, hot and strong and _good._ It felt powerful, to stand on her convictions again. Powerful, to take back what she had lost, bound and captured by these men. “I see. So you’re allowed to throw your life on the line for what you believe, that’s fine. But when I do the same, I lose your respect?”

“You—” Kougami pulled back at that, his arms going up as if defending himself. Akane threw up her own, bound hands when he surged towards her.

“Kou—” Akane hissed as she backed into the tent pole. Kougami grabbed her wrists in one hand, slamming his other onto the wood above her head. He came too close, crowding her, leaving her no space of her own.

“You. Could. Die,” he enunciated. His hair, uncut for days, fell against his forehead. Akane could feel his pulse in his grip on her hands; his eyes were iron. The edges of his mouth turned up in grimace, and his skin was clammy, rapidly going from cold to hot faster than could possibly be healthy. “Do you not _understand_?”

If Akane had been the kind of woman to flinch in the face of intimidation, she would have then. If she had been the type to be cowed by a larger, stronger, angrier male, then would have been the time. She could have done so, and none would fault her. Any rational woman in her place would have deescalated the situation; would have seen her position and negotiated it. But Akane, she herself decided, was not feeling particularly rational.

“I understand that if you’re in danger, then so I am. If you’re going to put your life on the line, be prepared to set mine out there too. We’ve always been destined to meet at this point, Kougami-san. Don’t think you can jump over the ledge alone, this time.”

Akane watched the shock and rage wash over his face, rinsing him of all but the barest, purest, fiercest of emotions. He leaned in more, bringing his nose to within inches of hers, towering over her. “I told you,” he hissed. “To call me _Shinya_.”

And then he kissed her.

Akane didn’t choke on it; nearly, but not quite. It was an unavoidably rough kiss, angry without doubt, but it was she who opened her mouth to accept it. And it was Kougami who groaned – _no,_ Shinya – as he pushed her bound arms above them, giving him room to press flush against her.

Akane pressed back, arching up and rubbing against him boldly. Because she was angry too. And if he could fight this way, well, so could she. So when she kissed him back she bit his lip in return, and when he started and made to pull away, she wound her legs around his hips.

He took them, letting go her wrists to wrap an arm around her waist. With his other hand, he pulled the knife from his belt. Akane felt it cool against her forearm, and then it jerked, and her hands were free. She grabbed him immediately, fisting his hair, running her short nails down his back. They hit the ground too hard on his left shoulder, and he grunted in pain. But when he heard the hitch in Akane’s breath as she was about to speak, he silenced her with his tongue, and then proceeded down her jawline.

Akane scored his back pulling his shirt up and over his head. In turn, he bit his way along her chest and collarbone. It hurt when he took a nipple in his mouth, it hurt and she pulled him closer by his hair, encouraging him. She slid her fingers down the tense muscles in his neck, his upper back. Kougami shuddered, and his hands were clumsy on her pants and the waist-line of her underwear. Something ripped, and that could be loud. He groaned as he came up her body, and that could be heard. What did it mean that she didn’t have the capacity to fear that at all?

They were kissing again, messily, and too fast. Akane went fumbling for something – oh, his belt. He struggled for a second, a hand drifting down to catch one wrist. Was he going to try and stop her? _Now_? _Why_? She snaked her other hand around his, down along his waist, inside his thigh, and found him just as desperately ready. Kougami jerked in her hand, and gave up his resistance.

She keened and dug her nails into his biceps when he moved up to her. Rubbing against him like a cat in eagerness, she actually made it harder for him, and he finally grabbed her hips and held her down to enter her.

Akane wasn’t sure if this was pleasure; it hurt, and it went too fast. But it _was_ need – she couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to, and she knew neither of them did. Kougami was kissing and biting her neck, her hair. “Akane,” he moaned, right into her throat. His strokes forced her lower back to the ground, trapping her legs open beneath him. “Akane…’kane—”

She roiled against him, clinging to his arms and his back. She felt so damn _heavy_ ; she was utterly weightless. She was clawing at him now, surging upwards and hearing her own voice breaking on his name, over and over and over. He should have been silencing her for both their sakes. Instead he was driving them both into the grass, lifting and dropping their joined waists, running his fists up her back to pull her closer, pull himself deeper. He was entirely rigid, and if she hadn’t wanted this so terribly, she might have released another kind of scream. As it was, she met him thrust for thrust, shove for shove, and exalted in his reckless groaning, his complete and total inability to fight her off.

Akane lost use of her arms and legs when it broke inside her, her whole body clinging to him of its own accord as she burned and swooned and crashed. He only just caught her budding scream with his mouth on hers and then he was reaching the peak as well, and Akane burned sore inside and moaned and still didn’t want to stop. She was still chasing aftershocks when Kougami collapsed on top of her. Her senses spun and tangled, it took her long moments of shuddering out the last of her orgasm to hear what he was whispering repeatedly in her ear.

It sounded like ‘never.’

“What?” Akane muttered, with the tiny bit of energy she had left. “K—Shinya? N…never what?”

He moved just a little, enough so that his mouth was against her neck. She felt his breath below her ear, sending fresh shivers over her still too-sensitive skin. His voice was low, hoarse and rough and heated. “You…” The word alone took him effort. “You could _never… never_ lose my respect. Never.”

 


	10. You've Made of Me

**You’ve Made of Me**

 

Akane shivered. Their sweat had dried on her skin, a salty mix that she had done nothing to swipe off. Kougami was still on top of her. He hadn’t moved since he’d last spoken. She ran her fingers through his hair. Now it was his turn to shiver. “This is wrong.”

“What is?” Akane asked. She felt a tiny surge in her, another hot flush of victory. “The Sunset Runners? What they’re doing?”

“No. What _I’m_ doing.” He exhaled slowly as he pushed himself up on both hands. “What I’m doing to you.”

He looked into her eyes. Though it was dark enough that she could just barely make his out, though she had only moments before passionately – _loudly,_ she winced – had him locked inside her, she suddenly felt acutely naked. “Okay. I’ll bite. What exactly are you doing to me that’s so wrong?”

“Endangering your life, to start. Forcing you into a world at odds with your beliefs—”

“You think life under the Sibyl System is a world in keeping with my beliefs?” Akane shot back her answer swiftly; it pained her how ready she had been for this. “I’m perfectly capable of dealing with people set against me. Actually, I _prefer_ it to be people. Humans are infinitely better than the monster I have to negotiate with on a daily basis.”

“Dammit, you’re not listening to me.” Kougami fisted his hands, digging up the grass on either side of her. “You can’t negotiate with the Runners. Didn’t you hear? They gave up on talk a long time ago.”

“And you?” Akane hoped he wouldn’t use the quiver in her voice against her. “You said once your goal was to protect people. You turned your back on your old life to stop a man who played at dice with human lives. Now you’re marching with an army that deals in human collateral like it’s spare change. Did you give up too, Shinya?”

“Don’t,” he warned her, his growl a menace just beneath the word. “I’m not answerable to you just because—”

“Because we’re sleeping together?” Akane said it bluntly, hoping it would hurt less to treat it like a bandage to be ripped away. It didn’t  — not when Kougami froze, and then pushed off and away from her, turning his back. Akane sat up herself, pulling in her knees and crossing her arms protectively over her chest. It was sore. “If you’re ashamed of this—”

“I’m not—” Kougami cut her off, and then let out a long huff, as he might release a puff of smoke. “I’m putting you in danger. _I_ am. That’s my responsibility.” His shoulders went rigid, and Akane could tell he was grimacing without seeing his face. “I have to stay away from you.”

“Won’t that be difficult?” Akane didn’t expect her voice to sound so bitter and shrewish. “It’s not exactly a huge camp. Or are you planning on running off again?”

Kougami’s reply was to reach for his clothes and begin dressing. Akane did feel something like shame then, something like dismissal. “Do you really think you can undo any damage now?” she said sharply, as he pulled on his shirt. “I’m pretty certain there’s already people here who know. What does avoiding me accomplish, exactly?”

Kougami stepped into his boots. “Maybe nothing,” he said quietly, his back still to her. “Maybe you’re right.”

“So why?” She could hear the pitiful entreaty she made. “Why bother?” And then, when he remained standing though he was dressed to go, “What’s _really_ wrong, Shinya?”

She couldn’t tell if saying his name earned her a reaction. His only response was to head for the tent flap. When he paused before opening it, Akane’s heart leaped to her throat; a cliché that suddenly proved surprisingly true.

“I’ll send in Madhuri to help retie you.” Kougami’s words were practical, his voice even and low. The moonlight seeping through the flap did nothing to illuminate his face. “I’ll tell her ten minutes.”

Akane was still waiting for his next words as he left, letting in a rush of cold air that peaked her nipples and slapped her hot, unready body. It was a good hurt – solidly physical. She could take it, focus on it, drag it out with nails in her thighs until she drew blood. It was better than the alternative. It gave her a less shameful excuse for the tears.

~

“How is your strength today, Akako?”

Akane frowned, and then remembered the false name in time to answer Madhuri’s question. “Oh. It’s fine. Thank you. You are kind.”

Madhuri snorted, readjusting her pack. She marched close beside Akane, near the upper point of the Sunset Runner’s formation. Despite their close ranks, the others kept their distance; Akane and Madhuri had a small area to themselves as they walked. It was delineated by the suspicious or hostile looks and low mutterings from the other warriors. Even Yanin kept away, helping two other Runners carry a large, black, square container. Behind her and to her left, Akane knew, Sato marched. And beside him, she also knew, was Kougami. She had looked for him once that morning, when the call went out to rise and push on. Akane had tried to catch his eye. She knew he saw her — his steel-grey gaze passed over her just briefly, before landing on Madhuri as if Akane existed only in her shadow. It had chilled her; it had rung her as if she were hollow. Akane spent the rest of the day deliberately, carefully refusing to look anywhere in her her lover’s direction.

“I am not kind.”

Akane started. “What?”

“You think I am kind because I keep your secret.” Madhuri grinned wryly when Akane’s eyes widened in fear. “They can’t hear. Don’t worry.”

“But I don’t…” Akane forced herself to modulate her voice. “It’s not just that. I’m not—I don’t ascribe virtues to people based on whether they benefit me. That would be sanctifying my own selfishness.”

Madhuri laughed outright. “You are like some goddess of justice come to life — so particular, so sincere. If the very image of Brahma spoke, I think it would be your voice.”

“Is that…” Akane looked down at her feet. Her boots were wearing out quickly from the miles of walking they did every day. “Is that a compliment? Or an insult?”

Madhuri let some time pass before replying. “Pure justice requires purity. A god who cannot know personal pain or sorrow might be able to give it. And maybe a man — or even a woman — who has kept their hands clean. But most of us cannot survive in the world without being defiled sometime. High gods are good for justice. But they take a long time to answer prayers. And they don’t answer to some of us.”

“Justice is only just if it reaches everyone equally,” Akane said softly, watching the other woman’s plump face for anger or agony. She wasn’t sure if she would be silent if Madhuri lashed out, but Akane had no wish to harm a woman who was protecting her. “I don’t know if I believe in gods. I think human beings have to answer for what they create.”

“You think we created gods?” Madhuri looked and sounded calm. Her left hand rested on the muzzle of her gun.

Akane thought of the deity that ruled her world; a being of many humans, made more than human by humans, to rule humans. “Some of them.”

“It would explain why there are so many gods of justice, and so many goddesses of vengeance,” Madhuri noted in resigned bitterness. “We see in the skies what we need here on earth.”

“And women need revenge more than men?” Akane asked, her genuine curiosity impossible to subdue. “Is that your view, Madhuri-san?”

Madhuri chuckled. “It is strange to hear you say my name like that.”

“Oh.” Akane colored, her natural inclination to politeness never to fully leave her. “It’s – it just means Ms. It’s a mark of respect.”

“Ah. I see. Like Madhuri-ji,” the Indian woman concluded. Akane nodded. “Yes. I could call you that, if you would prefer.”

“No.” Madhuri bit the inside of her cheek. “No, girl. I don’t need titles of respect from my country. I would not get them there, and I don’t need to lie to myself and pretend I should have them here. Any way you call me is fine.” She sped up her steps, forcing Akane to nearly jog. “Revenge isn’t only for women — just anybody who has nothing left to defend. When justice has no one left to save, it becomes revenge.”

“So, you had someone you failed to save.” Akane didn’t bother to make it a question. “And that’s why you’re here?”

“Of course,” Madhuri admitted freely. She angled her glance down at Akane, one brow raised. “That’s the only reason any of us is here.”

Akane held up under her gaze, and tried not to think about how much Kougami might have told this woman. _He trusts her – that much is clear_. Akane felt again the sensation of a fist around her heart. _He trusts her with me. He trusts her_ more _than me._ She didn’t look behind her. _And do I? Do I trust her?_

Akane pondered the question in silence until the Runners broke for their midday meal. She had no watch; she was beginning to track time as they did, by the sun and the number of steps they had gone. When the Runners convened in a circle around their fire, Akane seated herself out of range with her small portion of rice and fish, hoping to go unnoticed.

“There you are.”

Akane swallowed her mouthful before sighing and looking up. Park stood over her, with a predatory leer that showed all of his teeth. Four were yellow, she noted. “Is there something you wanted?” she asked levelly.

“So you’re just gonna sit there like we’re nothing?” Park spat, narrowly missing Akane’s cheek. “I can’t tell if you’re actually not afraid of us, or just too stupid to realize where you are. Do you think you can save yourself by holding out on us?” He grinned savagely. “We’ll get at whatever’s worth knowing in your little head soon enough. And then what? What’s your plan after that?”

“If I have a plan,” Akane said carefully, trying to keep the contempt from her voice. “What would I gain by telling you now?”

Park scowled, and bent in closer _. Like an animal puffing its chest, trying to make itself seem bigger than it is_ , she thought dispassionately. “Oh, so you’re clever now?" he snapped. "You think you can outthink us? You think that will be enough, when we finally hit you with what’s real? ‘Cause that’s what you all forgot, up there in your palaces and behind your walls.”

“I don’t live in a palace,” Akane said, keeping her voice calm to contrast with Park’s ever more erratic tone. “Real life has found me before, Park. No matter how many walls I’ve had around me.”

“Don’t condescend to me!” Park yelled. His cry broke through the easygoing laughter and chatter of the other Runners, leaving behind tense mutterings as the others noticed them. “You don’t have the right to use my name — none of you bastards do. Do you have any idea of what we’re gonna do when we take your precious city? Do you?” He grabbed Akane’s left arm, right above her elbow. His hand shook as he squeezed. His uncut nails dug into her skin.

“That System of yours makes you all weak where it counts.” Park bent down to hiss in Akane’s ear. “None of you know how to really fight. But we’ll be happy to demonstrate it to you all when we burst into your perfect little world.” His lips touched Akane’s ear as he whispered, “And you know what? I’m ready to demonstrate it to you right here, right now.”

Park pulled, trying to drag Akane to her feet. She tensed the muscles in her arm and resisted. “Get up!” Park snapped, face flushing. “Get up! Or are you really that much of a coward?”

He tried again. Akane held out long enough to frustrate him into trying to use his other hand, and then stood up on her own, unbalancing him. Park stumbled back. He growled and blushed as his gaze darted around to take in the crowd that had gathered around them. He assumed a fighting stance, posing as much for their audience as for battle. “Well? What! What?”

Akane didn’t rise to anger easily. It was a skill in her world, an asset that others envied. Some, she knew, whispered that she never gave into anger because she didn’t feel it. They were wrong.

“Alright, Park. If you really want to fight me – if I can’t persuade you otherwise…” Akane assumed her own stance, and heard gasps all around. _Do they really think no one under the System can fight?_ She heard snatches of muttered conversations carried to her on the air “…you think they all know…no, they couldn’t…just her…just like him…did he teach her…exactly the same as Wolf 1.”

_Oh_. Akane struggled to hold in the shiver. _Of course. He’s been fighting with them for months, at least. Of course they know what his style looks like. What mine looks like._

Akane felt the hand on her shoulder and jerked it off. “I don’t need you to protect me,” she muttered without turning around to see him. _It’s not your protection I want._

The sigh was deep, but unmistakably feminine. “Oh, girl. You can think that all the time, every day. But you can’t believe it into being true.”

“Madhuri!” Park practically screamed. “Defending her again? Just because she’s a girl doesn’t mean she’s one of yours! She doesn’t need your protection!”

“Who said I was protecting her?” Madhuri called back, stepping around Akane and into the open space that crowd had left for the fight. “Maybe I am protecting you, eh?”

“I don’t need protecting from a Sibyl slave!” Park exploded. His face was now an unappealing shade of tomato. “She’s weak, like they’re all weak!”

“If she is so weak,” Madhuri pointed out calmly. “What challenge is there for you?” She smiled then. “Ah, I see, eh! You are so hungry and anxious to practice, but you run out of partners, hmm? Now. If you wanted practice, Park, you should know, I am happy to help you.”

Now Akane could see grins on many of the Runner’s faces, and smothered laughter. Park’s eyes were wide in distress as Madhuri advanced on him. He almost took a step back, before narrowing his eyes and letting out a high-pitched war cry.

He charged at Madhuri as if to strike with his hands, and then stopped up short to kick at her legs. She leapt out of reach, kicking out with both feet, slamming into Park's face. He stumbled backwards, yowling.

“Eh?” Madhuri had landed, and now she circled him, grinning widely. “You okay there, huh? A little too much for you?”

Park snarled, whirling around to glare at those who dared laugh. He tried to rush Madhuri again, feinting in with a kick to her side, but she danced easily out of range. He attempted to come at her with a series of high kicks, and she just dropped and rolled away. She came up into a crouch with a theatrical flourish, to scattered applause. By then, Park was fuming. “You – you—”

“Well, don’t hurt yourself,” Madhuri said, with an expression of exaggerated mock worry. “If this is too much in the hot sun…you have such a delicate figure…”

“Enough!” Park screamed. Humiliated, sweating, wincing at every stray laugh, he turned his furious gaze from Madhuri to Akane. Akane recognized the desperate look in his eye even before he reached him into his back pocket to pull out the knife.

Akane wasn’t afraid. She didn’t try to run when he charged for her, only shifted her feet and raised her hands. Akane was moving to block him when Madhuri dove in front of her. Madhuri caught Park’s free wrist and swung him around, to face her. He brought down the blade instinctively at her unprotected face.

The Sunset Runners gasped, and at least one screamed. Akane’s eyes were sharp, her vantage point better than anyone’s, and even she didn’t see how it happened. One second Madhuri was crouched below Park, empty handed, his switchblade arching downwards. The next, Park was on his back. Madhuri’s knee was on his chest; her two _kalari_ daggers were crossed and pressed to his throat. His fingers twitched; his blade gleamed a few feet away in the grass.

Akane frowned, blinking. Madhuri was leaning in, saying something low and harsh to the prone man beneath her. Akane tried, but failed to make out anything more than “girl,” “never,” and “death.”

“She’s magnificent, isn’t she?” Sear had sidled up to Akane under the cover of the raucous crowd. Hands laced behind his back, he smiled confidentially down at her. “Her toughness is exquisite. Everyone learned within the space of a week not to challenge her — even Park. Poor boy, he _is_ always getting himself into these situations on account of pride. A foolish thing to cling to when one hasn’t the ability to support it, wouldn’t you say?”

Akane watched Madhuri climb off of Park, sheathing her daggers. “I think you have to reach for pride before you have the right to it. To earn it. You are never completely the person you want to be. If you can’t fight to gain or keep something, you’ll never understand its worth until you lose it.”

“I _see_.” Sear grinned, his lips too wide, stretching his face. “You’re an exquisite thing too, _Akako_.” He put a strange emphasis on the syllables of the false name, and winked at Akane as if they shared some secret before melting back into the crowd.

“Was that Sear?” Madhuri demanded, as she came over to Akane. She glared into the now dispersing Runners. She muttered something in a language Akane didn’t need to know to understand its foul meaning. “Keep clear of him, eh?”

Akane bristled. “Why? Is he another man you think I can’t deal with?”

“Eh? What’s that now?” Madhuri put hands on her ample hips. “You’re welcome very much.”

“I didn’t need you to do this,” Akane argued. “I don’t need to be protected by you or—” She broke off under Madhuri’s gaze, unwilling to expose that truth, even if she suspected the other woman already knew. “I could have fought him. I could have won.”

“I know you could have – _that_ is what I was protecting you from.”

Madhuri used Akane’s surprised silence to move in closer. There was barely an inch of space between the two women as Madhuri stared down at Akane, dark eyes in her dark face burning. “You would have fought. You would have won. And still, you would have lost. It is nothing to win one battle, when you are surrounded by an enemy.”

“I know—”

“No, _I_ know,” Madhuri cut her off vehemently. “I know what it means to stand up in a brutal world. To try to change the system from inside – yes,” she dragged out when Akane’s throat muscles seized, “yes, I know that is what you would try and do. You would make a brave stand, eh? Speak up for justice, fight until the bitter end? But it is a very bitter end you find. And after it all the world has not changed. There is only you, standing alone, making it nice and easy for the bullet to find your head.”

Akane let a moment go by and Madhuri’s words hang in the air. “I do respect what are trying to do for me, Madhuri-san. And I am thankful for your protection in one area.” Akane paused, letting the unspoken acknowledgement pass between them. “But I’m already standing up. I can’t go back into the crowd. My only course is the one I am on, for better or worse — for better or for bitter.”

Madhuri closed her eyes and tsked. “Aah. You think you can see the path you’re taking. _I_ can see…I can see there is no changing you mind. Of course not. There never was. There never is.” She opened her eyes to take one last, long look at Akane, as if memorizing her face.

Then she walked away.

~

Akane slept fitfully that night. Her dreams were scattered, all of drowning and falling and firing guns that hit the wrong target every time. She waded in and out of sleep, her legs tied to the post, until the light of false dawn finally roused her. There were only shades of it, just enough to make out his general shape as he moved silently through the tent flap.

Akane pushed herself up on shaking hands, letting out a sigh that hurt she had been holding in for so long. “Shinya.”

“I’m so sorry.” He moved closer to kneel before her, and the words were right, but the voice was wrong. “I truly am,” Sear said, though in the rising light Akane could see his wide, fresh smile. “But no. Not today.”


	11. Howl

_Author's Note:_

_Whew! Sorry for the wait, y'all, I know many of you have been wanting an update, and for all the lovely, LOVELY comments/reviews left for this fic I felt I owed you one. It took longer than I would have liked because I have another fic plus a full novel in the works, plus work, life, etc. And this was really intended to be a quick one-off, and now look -- it's become a darn original piece, complete with plot and new characters and everything!_

_But I SO appreciate how lovely everyone has been about expressing their feelings on this fic. Especially since us Psycho-Pass fans still don't know when the next season/movie is coming (WANT! WANT! WANT NOW!), I feel we need all the fics we can get! And, in the spirit of Urobuchi, this is a particularly dark update. Now, I'm sure anyone who is a fan of Psycho-Pass can handle it, but just in case you are planning on eating while doing so, but have a queasy side, maybe not? Probably nothing, but just so no one goes in blind._

_We're off the edge of the map, kids. Here, there be monsters._

**Howl**

“Sooo...” Hinakawa looked up from his desk, minimizing the online virtual game he'd been coding, and looked around the Division One offices. “Where do you think she is now?”

Kunizuka looked around the offices, specifically to the sliding doors where Shimotsuki might reenter at any moment. Ginoza did not react, continuing to type his report into his computer. “I’m sure she’ll be back any second now.”

“No. Not Shimotsuki-san. Senpai. Akane.”

Kunizuka cleared her throat, a slight warning that they’d developed for topics too sensitive to be freely discussed at work. “We know what she’s doing. That should be enough for all of us, until she gets back.”

“But I’m worried about her.” Hinakawa looked down at his bowl of noodles. There was nowhere he could secret pills into them, they were soggy and free of self-medication. “I just…I don’t like thinking of her out there, all by herself. With no backup if anything goes wrong.”

Kunizuka looked away from the red-head’s forlorn, pleading eyes, and made a silent appeal to Ginoza with her own.

“Wherever she is, I’m sure she’s fine,” Ginoza said, brushing his heavy, unruly bangs aside. “Inspector Tsunemori is more than capable of protecting herself.”

~

Akane had fought back the screams for the first four strips of skin Sear removed from her bare thighs, but the last one forced its way past her teeth. She winced out tears as he drew away the line of flesh with a pair of pincers, dropping it clinically into a bucket of solution, lush whirls of red darkening the clear liquid.

“We start off slow, you see.” Sear grinned at her, with genuine pleasure and affection, as if he rather hoped she might share his. “Don’t want to tire you out. Well, you could end this all quickly if you volunteered some information…”

Akane set her jaw. “So that’s…what this is?” She scoffed, the defiance helpful for ignoring the pain. “An interrogation?” She spat her disdain out on the glittering array of surgical tools Sear had assembled at her feet.

“Well, as Kougami has been unable to pry anything but moans from those lovely lips,” Sear explained freely, as he selected what resembled a de-feathered quill, “the job has fallen happily to me.”

“You – enjoy this?” Akane shifted her back against the pole; her bonds of rope had been replaced with chains of old iron. “Torturing people?”

Sear blinked. “Why, yes. I thought that would be apparent?”

Akane swallowed, acutely conscious of the air on her legs, her pants rolled up to mid-thigh. “Torturing women?”

“Hmm?” Sear paused in his work of dabbing the quill point into a petri-dish of yellow liquid. “Oh! Oh, no, no. You must not think that! No!” The sadist managed to appear deeply offended as he frowned down at Akane. “My interest in such things is not prurient at all! As I said, I have greatest respect for strong women. No, no, no. My enjoyment is fulfilled entirely by the expressions of pain as a person fights it on ever increasing levels. Good, clean, soldier’s pain – the kind women are so often denied, because fools think they cannot bear it. No worries, no worries—” He patted Akane’s face with his free, gloved hand, his smile intended to be comforting. “I have no other urges I seek to feed. I am sure your other charms are lovely, just lovely. But I am perfectly content to leave their sampling to our wolf, Miss Akako.”

“Your act isn’t as intimidating as you think, Sear. The calm, self-aware psychopath act – I’ve seen it all before. If you wanted to inspire fear, you should have come up with your own shtick, instead of dusting off the same cliché.” Akane glared into the wide, glassy eyes of her torturer. “And my name isn’t Akako.”

Sear chuckled. “Of course it isn’t! Ah, but don’t worry. By the end of our session, you and I will know each other better than anyone else ever has. Better even, I venture to say, than your beloved wolf. Hmm…” Sear positioned the razor-sharp tip of the quill just under the nail of Akane’s left index finger. The wetness from the yellow liquid tingled against her sensitive skin, the start of a burn. Sear tsked as he leaned forward, readying himself. “I wonder where he could be right now, your canine lover? Far enough away, I suspect. As many miles as it takes to be out of range of the screaming.”

He winked at Akane, and slid the metal point deep under her skin.

~

“Spinel? I hear they’re your favorite?”

Kougami cracked a half-grin as he took the cigarette Sato offered. “You’ve been hiding these from me, huh?”

“Hiding?” Sato chuckled as he produced a lighter. He lit first Kougami’s cigarette, then his own. He inhaled deeply. Both men stood facing the end of the woods the Sunset Runners were using for cover. They had gone far ahead as scouts, to scope out the best route forward for their people. Before them extended miles of abandoned rice paddies: clear space where patrolling drones could easily zone in on an approaching army. The commander surveyed the dangerous expanse as he smoked. “Hardly. You aren’t a thief, Wolf 1. If you knew I had some you wouldn’t steal them. You’d just mope and brood more than you already do, until I felt _compelled_ to share them just to bring something like a smile to that grim face.”

Kougami snorted. “Well. I appreciate your generosity in not making me beg.”

“Ah. Are you really the begging type? I don’t see it.” Sato shook his head, making the smoke he emitted curl up to the sky in parallel lines. “You’ve got too much pride for that, I think. I imagine it was intolerable for you under the Sibyl System.”

“Yeah. I never could get the hang of keeping my head down. Just not the kind to be house-broken, I guess. No matter how much good it might have done me.”

Sato glanced aside, taking in the angle of the setting sun. “No good can come for anyone under that System. Man wasn’t made to live collared. That’s why we have to do what we do. There’s too many out there who are afraid of pride.”

“No arguments here, Sato.”

Sato let the silence hang between them. There should have been birdsong; even at the edge of the forest, they were nowhere near an area inhabited by humans. Animals should have reclaimed the land for their own, but unfettered life seemed to halt at the tree line.

“You’ve been a great man for us, Shinya. We’d have never gotten out of Shanghai if not for you, would never have made it to Japan. You’ve given as much as anyone of us for this mission – you’ve made our cause your cause. I find myself almost continually impressed with your strength – with your endless ability to inspire and guide us, even out of situations that seem inescapable.”

Kougami laughed. “Alright. What’s up?” Off the commander’s look, Kougami grinned. “You’re not exactly the kinda guy who’s free with praise. C’mon, don’t work me. Why’d you bring me out here? It wasn’t to regurgitate things we both already know.”

Sato angled his body to face the other man. “You know, you came to us like a savior – the legendary Kougami Shinya, hero of Shamballa, defiant enemy of Sibyl from here to the ends of the wildlands. You took our cause as your own.”

“It is.” Kougami watched Sato’s face. “You know that.”

“You know—” Sato slowly lifted his cigarette to his lips, took a long drag. “I never quite did. I couldn’t quite understand how you could accept all that we were so completely, and lend us your expertise so freely. I wondered for a while. Most of us have personal grievances that drive us. But you never seemed driven – just focused. After a while, I just assumed that you were the kind of man who lived for a cause; who could give himself utterly to the abstract, and survive on the purity of fighting for justice.”

“And now you don't.”

“Can any man?” Sato answered Kougami’s non-question with a rhetorical one. “I feel I should apologize. I have done you a disservice – seeing you as more than a man is no better than seeing you as less of one.”

Kougami took a step back, his detective instincts rushing to fill in the gaps in their conversation. “So. That’s what this is about.” He swallowed hard. “Well. No use trying to keep secrets among collaborators, I guess.”

“And yet you _did_ try.” Sato smiled then, sadly. “Which tells me all I need to know.”

~

“You’re so strong,” Sear praised. “I knew you would be.”

Akane gasped when he pulled out the quill-point, leaving the pinky of her right hand as damaged as all the other fingers. Her nails had been pushed up, and the skin beneath them was inflamed. The blood that flowed was doing something revolting as it reacted to the yellow liquid. It seemed to be… _boiling_ …

“So now I am curious – what _is_ your name?”

Sear’s voice was casual as he lifted up Akane’s shirt to expose her bare stomach. “Not that your name at birth determines you, certainly. I am in fact partial to people receiving names when they come of age. By then, they reflect one’s true character. For example, my own. Sear.” He selected a serrated knife from among his tools with delicate fingers. “Not such a mystery, I suppose. But I think of myself as an honest man; simple and clear in his desires. My name fits me; it is short, and blunt, and describes exactly what I do.”

He dragged the blade along Akane’s upper abdomen. Slowly, and carefully, doubling the pain through her inability to control, fight, or look away. He twisted the knife slightly before leaving her skin, deepening the cut at the edge of her ribs. He brought away the blade and immediately wiped it down with a ragged cloth. “Sterilization is so important,” he said to Akane as she hissed and whimpered, blood weeping down her stomach in dark, fast rivulets. “Infection is a horrible way to die; undignified, preventable, agonizing. I don’t like it.”

Sear turned to retrieve a vial containing more of the yellow liquid he’d used for the quill instrument. He uncorked it with a look of fondness Akane found more disgusting than her own mutilated body. “So.” Sear paused and cleared his throat. “Young Miss of the System. My first question of our interrogation; what is your real name?”

Akane’s eyes were blurred with tears. Her right hand refused to numb; she still felt the pain in each of her fingers, continually renewed as if they were still being pierced. Her stomach cut was freshly stinging, and the gashes on her thighs still oozed blood. She was already seriously wounded, and Sear promised only worse to come.

But that wasn’t what chilled her heart with fear. Akane had screamed in what anyone listening would know was pain and distress, but no one had answered. The camp was small, the tents packed close. If no one had come by now, then it was because no one would.

“Well?”

Akane shook her head; her neck, at least, was unchained. She met Sear’s open, almost friendly gaze. “Go to hell, you monster – if there’s even one that will take you.”

Sear giggled, both hands clasping his vial to his lips. “Oh, Miss System. You and I…we’re simply meant for each other.”

He leaned forward, bringing his nose inches from hers, letting Akane taste his breath as he let out a sigh. It should have been rancid, foul. Instead it was clean, mint-flavored. He lined up the edge of the open vial against the left end of her stomach cut, and tipped. Akane shrieked at the unimaginable, incredible, searing pain.

“Oh, yes,” Sear murmured, as he went along her stomach, soaking her cut and drawing out her screams. “This is most certainly fate.”

~

Kougami subtly adjusted his stance. He didn’t make any move for the gun strapped to his thigh, merely reminded himself of its presence.

Sato was an old soldier. Sato saw. “So ...you’re prepared to go quite that far for her, then?”

Kougami didn’t relax, but he didn’t move either. “Depends. What are your intentions, Sato?”

“ _My_ intentions? You bring a Sibyl System acolyte into our ranks and _I’m_ the one who has to answer for it?” Sato tsked.

“She’s not—” Kougami grunted in frustration. “She’s not with them.”

“No? On our side, then?”

Kougami answered through his teeth. “Yes.”

Sato shook his head, tsking again. “That wasn’t your story when you presented her to us as your hostage. Was that a ploy you two developed back when you worked under the System together?”

“ _No_.”

“So reticent.” Sato took another drag, his motions the epitome of casual. His eyes remained on Kougami’s, hard and unblinking. “You’ve always been such a private fellow. A man of books and bullets. Not the kind to let emotion run away with him. But...” He lifted the cigarette back to his lips. “Everyone has their indulgences. Those can be forgiven.”

“Yeah? And what can’t?” Kougami demanded bluntly. “Don’t toy with me, Sato-san. I told you I would be the one to deal with her.”

“Her, her. See...” Sato took the cigarette in his two left fingers to point it at Kougami, flicking ash at the former Enforcer. “There we have it again. You two are clearly on close – very close – terms. And yet, you will not even use her name when you talk of her.”

“So? What’s your conclusion?” Kougami spat. “What do you _choose_ to see in all this?”

“All this?” Sato said with amusement, the smoke following his stub as he circled the air with both hands. “All this...what do I see in you, and our lovely, fierce young guest, and your intimate connection? Well, Kougami-san. I see a woman who has placed her faith solidly in people, and the ideals they cherish – an admirable, if foolish thing. I see a man who seemed to have no need for faith until she reappeared; one who desperately feels that if he stands close enough to her he will be blessed with a touch of that belief for his own. And I see a rag-tag group of rebels united solely by a shared opposition of what they hate, who _must_ be unified in that hatred, pure in it, if they are to survive.”

Sato narrowed his eyes. “Now, Kougami, tell me, what do _you_ see? What options do you believe an old commander has, when it comes to this tangle of loyalties and lies? What does a leader do, when he must think first and think fast, to root out the weeds of deception before they sprout – as quickly as possible, with whatever blunt tools are available? What is your conclusion to my dilemma?”

~

“Yes. Yes…just so. Ah, perfect…”

Sear poured more of the yellow liquid over her cuts, making the blood in them bubble and fizz. The pain was excruciating, and Akane had long since given up trying not to scream. It wasn’t even the physical pain of it, really; more the revolting sight of her inner gore trying to force its way out of her skin, the wounds re-slicing themselves as they regurgitated the acid and with it her insides. The look of it, seeing it and knowing it was her body doing it, that was the worst part.

Sear knew this. She was sure.

“I can explain what it is, if you’re interested in the chemical makeup,” Sear offered, and then sighed. “But you probably are past the point of being able to retain any complex information – hmm?”

Akane’s head swam. If she tried to block out the pain of one of her cuts, there were a dozen others wailing for her attention. Her body was weakening, chills seeping up her legs and arms. But her mind, as ever, as always, was clear. “Then what…makes you think…I can tell you anything?” Her lips were swollen from bites, but the words made it past them. “Torture…won’t get you the truth.”

Sear shrugged, an empty vial in one hand, a screwdriver in the other. “I know that; and you know that. But our bold commander has faith in the old methods, you see. He is a man from an older time – maybe we all are. But he believes in being direct, in working with our hands; in honesty, bare honesty.” Sear set down the empty vial, and selected a full one. “On that we agree, you see. So we get along. Well. We tolerate each other.”

“And that’s…how you all do it?” Akane felt sick, and it wasn’t just from her own grotesque figure. “You all...just tolerate each other? You don’t care what any one of you do if it gets –” She coughed, bringing up a little more blood. “Results?”

Sear looked at her sidelong, and smirked. “You are wondering what it is your lover has done to get results for the Runners…hmm?” Akane’s eyes widened, caught. Sear twirled the screwdriver idly in his long fingers. “Wondering if maybe there is a side to him to don’t know. If maybe he has changed since you first knew him. If maybe, the man you think you love is not really the man he is at all…hmm?”

Akane’s cuts burned still, but her voice had never been so cold. “You don’t know S—you don’t know Kougami like I do. You don’t.”

“Ah. I see. You have been lovers long before this?”

Akane was lightheaded, queasy, and in an incredible amount of pain, but she saw the trap before she fell into it. She bit her lip against the leading question, swallowing down bile. “As I said, Mr. Sear. This isn’t...my first time.”

Anger would have helped – it would have given Akane some sense that she was fighting, that this was a battle, that she wasn’t helpless and bleeding and lost. But Sear only chuckled, _fondly_ , yet again. “You’ll tell me eventually, of course. When the pain reaches its peak, when your body and mind cannot take any more, then you will break. It is the inevitable result of human weakness. Oh, but let’s not worry about that now. For now, we don’t have to think about Sato’s agenda, or the needs of the Runners. For now, focus on your own needs, your own body. For example, you should be nearing the point where your mind might split off, to protect you from accepting the pain. Please let me know if it does, or if you feel faint. We have all the day for this,” he crooned. “And the night, if you’re very, very strong.”

~

The old warrior was fast, but not enough. Either that or he wasn’t really trying. Kougami had the sneaking suspicion it was the latter, so he tightened his hold on Sato’s vest and shoved the other man harder into the truck of the tree. “I want answers, Sato-san.”

“Ah? So do I. Let us hope we can come to some resolution where we all get what we desire.”

“Dammit, I told you _I_ would question her!” Kougami seethed, bringing all his weight to bear. He lifted the other man by the edges of his vest, so that Sato’s feet lifted off the ground. “You swore you would leave her to me!”

“A promise made to a deceiver can have no value,” Sato said, his voice defiant despite how he struggled to speak from his uncomfortable position. “You lied to us, Kougami. We trusted you, and followed you. And you allowed your feelings for this woman to blind you to what she is.”

“You don’t know what she is,” Kougami declared, pulling Sato away from the tree and forcing his back against it again. Sato huffed in pain and acknowledgement. “True. I do not. And, as you will not freely tell us, I have been forced to engage someone who can extract that truth from her, no matter how unwilling she may be.”

The horrifying realization hit Kougami like a physical blow; and then, seconds later, so did Sato. Taking advantage of Kougami’s distraction, the commander kicked both legs out, slamming him back and down. Kougami rolled up to his knee, drawing his gun.

Sato stood tall, hands in his pockets. “Going to shoot me?”

Kougami flicked off the safety and cocked the pistol.

“I see.” Sato glanced up around him, to the clear blue sky overhead. “Not a bad place to end my life. I always wanted to see this part of the world.”

“Where is she?”

“You know where she is. She’s with him.”

Kougami made a sound in the back of his throat like a wounded animal. “You _bastard_.”

“Everyone in our camp is here for a reason,” Sato said calmly, as if he did not have a gun trained on him by a man too furious to form words. “You, myself, Madhuri, we have our sets of skills and talents. And Sear has his. You suspected this, Kougami. You are too perceptive not to have known what he is. Why did you think we kept him around?”

“So you’ll protect a monster as long as he serves you?”

“Don’t become a moralist on me now, Kougami. You never protested him before. If your righteous indignation only comes to bear when the people you love are in danger, you cannot lay claim to it as justice.”

Kougami rose to his feet, his gun still perfectly aimed at Sato’s head. “I’m stopping this,” he informed the other man. Sato nodded. “I expect you will try. I almost hope you succeed.”

“You had better. You’ll know if I don’t. I _will_ kill you, Sato-san.”

Sato smiled sadly at his friend. “Run, Wolf 1. Sear has already begun his work. And he is not a man to waste his time.”

~

“Perhaps I should tell you where this interest of mine began.”

The torturer clinically applied disinfectant to his latest tool, a pristine scalpel, as he narrated to the bleeding, barely conscious woman.

“You see, my mother – ah, she was such a strong woman. When the turmoil hit my country, hospitals, clinics, modern medicine itself was lost. Loss of electricity and power left millions without aid. And women, women suffered the worst. My mother bore seven children without doctor’s hands to guide her. Can you imagine? She said I caused her the greatest pain, nearly killing her when I came. But I did not. Because she was so strong, so incredibly strong…

She had to be. My father was unknown, but I had a string of men who tried to take that place. For my mother, for my sisters, they were hoped for protection, and yet always predators, in the end. When the gangsters who ruled our little corner of the world demanded my youngest sister, Srey, as payment for some trumped up debt, my mother refused. “I will light this match and set our whole house on fire if you try to take her!” They went away, and I was filled with pride.

And yet, the next day she had to go out to get food for us, and the man who then called himself my father paid the debt. When she came home, my mother did not bother to cry. Oh, no! She took up the butcher knife in our tiny kitchen, and she gutted that man like a pig. “Come,” she said to me then. “We are getting her back.”

~

Kougami ran.

When the branches of trees lashed his face, he shook his head and kept going at the same, heart-pounding pace. He shoved aside vines, leaped over rocks and patches of swampy ground. When he tripped over roots, he got up with a sound no animal reacted to, because it sounded so precisely like a canine’s growl.

He didn’t think about what was happening to her. He didn’t think. He let his body take over, driving him forward with more strength than any man should have been able to call upon.

~

“Have you ever seen the inside of a brothel?

It is hell. Whatever you imagine it to be, it is ten times that. Far, far worse. Oh, yes. You don’t believe me? I am glad of it. It means you do not know.

You might think the women who moan and scream are the most painful. But no. The ones who still fight are still alive. You might also say, well, the dead bodies, the ones hog-tied and stabbed through the stomach, left hung like so much meat for all to see are the very, very worst part. But again, no.

It is the silence that you must fear. The women who say nothing, who lay on their backs without struggle, who muffle the moans when the men use them, those are the worst, they were the ones that chilled me. I could not bear to look at them and find my sister, but I could not look away.

My mother did not hesitate – noble woman! Brave woman! She strode right up to the leader of the gangsters. “I want my daughter back, you sons of monkeys and demons! Give her to me!”

They laughed. For the very last time, they laughed. Then she was on them with the knife. She killed the leader, because he did not expect it from a woman. Two more she killed, before they stopped her. But they never subdued her. No! Never! She fought them until the end, every last one of them. I watched.

No one watched me. Not even when I toppled over the braziers they were using to light the pipes they smoked. Not when the first few girls caught fire – why not? Because they did not scream! Screams had been lost to them, they had forgotten how. So the gangsters didn’t notice their house was burning down until the flames reached them. I watched it all, and when it was done, I found my mother and sister in the ashes. I buried them, as a proper son should. I knew they were in heaven, just as I knew all the men there were in hell.

I hold my mother and sister in deepest respect. They knew then what I learned when I buried them in the blackened ground that day; that in this world, a silent, submissive woman is like the grass beneath your feet – there to be trampled. Only when you raise your voice, only when you fight – fight! – can you expect any more respect than a man would give an ewe.

So scream! Roar! Yes, just like that. That shows your fight, your spirit. Once you have lost that, well…”

~

Kougami could see the tents of the camp ahead. Somehow, that was worse. He snarled as he forced his way past the last of the trees, and began the sprint across the plain. They were never close enough, no matter how fast he ran. He couldn’t hear screaming. He didn’t want to hear screaming. He didn’t want to hear silence. How would he find her? Which tent?

_Where? Where, where, where…?_

~

“Women bear the ultimate pains in life – childbirth, rape, the beatings of men. Men are always inventing new tortures for them. And yet, we men profess to believe that women are not strong enough for battle! Such nonsense. Why, women everywhere are warriors! They fight every day, and their skin is ten-times as strong as a man’s. It simply has to be. You are never truly allowed to be without your armor.

And so women’s power is denied, women’s strength stolen from them, even as they daily fight wars men can never match.

“And is this not wrong? Is this not the greatest crime of all?”

~

Kougami made it to the tents, and fisted his left hand in fury. The other still held his pistol. He momentarily considered firing it into the air to bring everyone out. But would Sear stop what he was doing if he thought they were under attack? Kougami nearly doubled over, sickened.

_No._ He’d known it from the moment he’d seen how Sear looked on Akane – hungry, excited, determined. Sear had been waiting for exactly this chance. He wasn’t about to give it up.

Where would she be? Kougami ran quickly through the possibilities. Had he taken her to his own tent? Had she been brought to Sato’s? No, he would have seen…where? He couldn’t waste time running looking for her, he had wasted too much already.

He began to work up into a jog again. He ignored the curious or frightened looks from the other Runners as they caught sight of him, gun drawn, loping through the tents. Kougami abandoned his mind. He would find her like the dog he was, trusting to his senses to guide him. He would find her. He would.

~

“But my work _restores_ you to that primal place of power you deserve. Yes…together, we see how mighty you truly are! Together, we experience the depths of agony a woman can bear, the heights of triumph she can reach! Oh! And you…you are _tremendous_. A paragon of power, a sublime woman without weakness. Yes! Yes; together, we can find the pinnacle, that elusive farthest point of pain that only a woman can survive.

Yes. You can survive it. I am sure of it. All of the others were as nothing compared to you. They were the broken signposts that guided me your way. Oh! How I thank your wolf of a lover for bringing you to me. And how I thank you, Akane Tsunemori – yes, at last we hear you scream your true name – for remaining with me, even to the end.”

~

Kougami was working off fumes, huffing with extended effort, when he saw the tent, her tent. His second wind was barely enough, the air he drew into his lungs burning, but he increased his speed. Kougami was almost there.

~

She wanted to scream his name. It was irrational – Sear had said he was out of range _. Where? Where are you? Shinya…_

“Don’t hold back.” Sear’s voice was encouraging, warm. Akane’s eyes had lazed shut from the pain, but she could feel him right before her face, too close. “Tell me what you feel…tell me everything. I don’t want to kill you, Akane. If you want the pain to stop, only tell me. I can make it all go away.”

She wanted it to stop. She wanted the end. She would give anything, do anything, say anything for him to end it. She would say anything for him. “Please…Shinya—”

An outraged gasp, and Sear’s breath was no longer on her neck. “No!” he sputtered. “You can’t be here! You can’t!”

There – the unmistakable sound of a hard punch. Akane felt hands on her, steadying her, searching for the key to her manacles. “Shinya…”

“Akako. Akako, look at me.” Two fingers gently raised her eyelids. Akane’s vision blurred, and then cleared enough to make out the other woman’s face. “Stay with me,” Madhuri whispered. “Stay with me, Akako. Eh! You hear me? I’m getting you out of here. You hear? I'm getting you out."


	12. Screaming in the Dark

**Screaming in the Dark**

_“Madhuri-ji!”_

_The scream had sounded ten...eleven...fifteen minutes ago. Madhuri ran, desperate to close the gap. She raced down the wide, rutted street littered with cow-dung. The people of her village came out of their houses to watch her as she passed. Dusty, too-thin children who were always making a racket, no matter how their weary, prematurely aged-mothers scolded them; burdened Indian wives who harangued their lazy, drunk, or dead-weary husbands in shrill, still-strong voices; young men and old men who loved to argue and joke and talk politics at the top of their lungs even when those lungs were coated with sand and dirt and cooking oil – they were all silent._

_All of them. They watched her uselessly, as if they had no more sense than the cows that roamed freely, ignorantly through the befouled, abandoned streets of their squalid home._ Useless people. Worthless people.

 _If Madhuri had had breath beyond what she used to run she would have filled the air with her screams._ Cowards! All of you! Bastards! After all she has done for you, you just stand there? All the time she spent giving you strength, teaching you to speak out, and now you forget your pride?

You _never_ had any pride. Not until Pinky stood up and told you what it was _._

_Madhuri would curse them later, for there would be a later. Yes, yes, there would be time enough to slap and scold them when she had Pinky by her side. Pinky wouldn’t have to do the talking, for once. Madhuri would speak up, she wouldn’t just stand in her shadow while her little sister told their people that they could only stop living like slaves and sheep if they stopped acting like them. Yes. Pinky would be impressed by that, eh? Yes. Yes, it would be something for them to laugh over. Together. Later._

_Not now. Now she couldn’t think about the future, she had to race past it. Madhuri pushed herself to run faster than she had thought possible for her heavy, unshapely body. Pinky was the skinny one, the sprinter, the one always in motion, always talking. Madhuri was the quiet one, but why not? Pinky could do the talking just fine for them both._

_Madhuri didn’t let the silence up ahead stop her, even when the people watching turned away, some with tears in their eyes. She crossed the unspoken, invisible, inviolate barrier without pause. Her dirty feet profaned the cleaner streets as she sped up, moving towards the blurry mass of men clustered beneath the sheesham trees, their shade a luxury they hogged like every other, guarded like dogs._ You’re all dogs without leashes – just like she said. You are everything she called you, everything. You deserve nothing. She was right and you are wrong.

_Madhuri’s strength began to flag. Her steps became leaps as she strove to cover more ground as her pace dropped off. The forms of the men in the distance became clearer, Madhuri could read their faces now; cocky, laughing, malevolently satisfied._

_But it wasn’t too late. She wasn’t out of time yet. She wasn’t because she wasn’t, because she was almost there._ I’m here, Pinky. I’m here, _bahin_ , my sister, my baby sister. I am almost there to you. See? I am close. Pinky _—_

“Akako.”

Akane lurched forward as Madhuri fumbled around her arms, searching for the key. “Akako, you have to help me. Stay with me. Eh!” Akane swooned, and Madhuri slapped her. “Stay awake!” Madhuri caught Akane with one hand under her chin, the other at her ribs. “You need to keep your eyes open for me, okay, girl? I can’t carry you out of here on my own, Akako.”

“Akane…” Akane winced hard, and then held open her watering eyes to look at the other woman. “My name is Akane.”

Madhuri huffed a short laugh. “Akane, Akako, just focus on me, eh? I’m going to look for the—”

Akane’s sight was still blurred; she missed the chance to warn her. Sear’s blade, the tiny scalpel, jammed into Madhuri’s side just as Akane summoned up the strength to yell. “No!”

“Yes.” Sear crawled to his feet, still wearing a smile as he watched Madhuri stumble to hers. She tried to shield Akane with one hand, the other grabbing her pierced side. “Of course…of course you would come for her,” Sear purred out. “Like a cat for one of her kittens. You _have_ been watching over her so nicely. I commend you for it – I note that you saw her potential as well.”

“I should have killed you back in Mongolia.” Madhuri hissed as she drew out the scalpel, flipping it around to make the weapon her own. She angled it at the torturer. “Instead I let you fester among us, like a disease. Now I will cut you.”

Sear nearly doubled over. “Oh! Oh, how precious!” he cackled. “And then what? One-by-one, you will rid this camp of all the men who prey on women? On other men? How much blood are you ready to drink, you tigress? Will you clean this whole country, man-by-man?”

“If that is what it takes,” Madhuri spat back. She grunted, putting her left fingers into her wound to plug it, and shifting into her fighting stance. “It is what I should have done. Work I let fall – work I left to others. No more. I’ll wash out my shame and hers, and then I’ll do it for every other girl like us, even if I have to soak myself in so much blood no heaven will ever admit me.”

“I confess – I would like to see it,” Sear said in honest praise. “Very much so. Alas, for me to see anything I must live. And as you do not intend that, well…”

Sear bent down and reached his right hand behind him. As he spread his legs he brought the gleaming hack-saw around to his front.

“Stay awake, Akako-Akane,” Madhuri ordered as she stepped forward. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Sear leaped forward in pure silence, and Madhuri darted out with a suppressed grunt. Sear swung the saw wide, forcing her to bend to dodge it. She came up with arresting speed, nearly sinking the scalpel into his neck. Sear skittered to the side, trying for Madhuri’s neck with a downswing. She knocked the saw aside with the much smaller scalpel, and aimed a kick at Sear’s vulnerable knee. He just managed to evade her, hopping out of range, and then jabbing his weapon at Madhuri’s thick stomach. She jumped up to avoid being stuck, and landed with a heavy gasp of pain. When she stumbled, Sear rushed forward. Madhuri again knocked the saw off course with her scalpel, but when Sear pulled back once more, Madhuri's cheek was slashed, his weapon dripping with her blood.

They went on for a few intense, heated seconds, or minutes – Akane couldn’t gauge time clearly, not when it took every ounce of willpower she had to obey Madhuri’s command to keep her eyes open. Madhuri was the better fighter; it was obvious to Akane, brutally clear to Sear. That was why he kept dodging, darting in to threaten a slash with his hack-saw, only to skip away just as quickly. Akane’s lungs were burning, her every muscle demanding attention, but she could see the thin man’s game. He couldn’t win by engaging Madhuri directly. But every time she lunged, the Indian woman’s face showed a spasm of pain, and every time she lifted her right arm to aim for Sear, her left tightened around her injured side.

Akane tried to calculate out how much blood Madhuri had lost, was losing _. Too much_ , was all she could think. With every swipe of the saw she dodged, every effort to keep her natural strike-cries within, Madhuri was visibly weakening.

Akane struggled against her manacles. She didn’t know what help she could be, in the state she was in, but she couldn’t just keep her eyes on the other woman while she fought this battle. Akane twisted her wrists as Madhuri sent a strike at Sear's thigh. He blocked it with his saw, and tripped Madhuri when he thrust back. The Indian woman dropped and rolled, leaving a line of blood across the grass floor of the tent.

One of Akane’s cuffs was looser than the other, just a touch bigger. She focused on pulling at her left wrist, winding it and working it downwards. She managed to get the first joint of her thumb free, and then got stuck at her index knuckle.

Akane winced, taking inventory of all of her pains. She was a patchwork of bruises and cuts, many still open thanks to Sear’s formula. And Sear himself – he showed no signs of weakening or slowing, his stretched grin only growing wider as Madhuri’s blows continued to miss. Akane bit her bruised lips to add another distracting pain, braced her right arm, and tugged at her left.

For an instant there was just the exertion of pulling. Then there was one crack, and her left hand slipped free. Akane looked down at it as it fell into her lap, thumb bent in, making it seem a claw. She felt a surge of triumph, and then the pain hit.

Her scream turned Sear and Madhuri both. The first’s face had an expression of eager delight, like a child suddenly offered candy. The latter locked eyes with Akane. Fear was in them, verging on horror. Akane watched something travel across Madhuri’s face like a shade, something like love, and then something like guilt.

Sear moved, but Akane had her eyes on Madhuri. She saw the moment of decision happen, watched as the other woman set herself recklessly between Akane and her predator. Akane kept her eyes on Madhuri’s back as she blocked Sear’s path. She kept them wide open. She didn’t hear the sound of the impact; she _did_ see its effect. Madhuri was standing straight one second, and in the next was curling forward. She stumbled back, angled. Akane looked in something like curiosity at the saw rammed into Madhuri’s right side. Just below her breasts, just to the left of her armpit, somewhere between her ribs, the serrated weapon protruded out boldly.

Sear seemed to share Akane’s shock at his own good fortune. His fist still on the handle, he stared, perplexed, at the penetrating blow. Madhuri’s blood gushed out to coat his arm, and his eyes widened. Sear was starting a true smile of glee when Madhuri’s right elbow came down hard over his hand.

He had gotten too close – the blow had cost him the necessary distance he had so carefully maintained. Trapping his left arm against her body with her right, Madhuri grabbed Sear by his neck and jerked him down as she brought a knee up. The blow disoriented him for just long enough. Madhuri let go his arm and raised her right hand. Akane watched her bring it up and then down in a blur of red. She didn’t see the scalpel until it had done its work. When Sear coughed, Akane saw the point of it sticking out of his Adam’s apple. Sear gasped, releasing a stream of blood. He tried once more to raise his head, straining against the implement impaling his windpipe. The his skull dropped, dead-weight.

“Madhuri.”

The other woman looked over at Akane, blinked, and then formed half a grin with one side of her lips. “Here.” She withdrew her bloodied left hand, and tossed something hard into Akane’s lap. Akane felt the edges of the key brush against her broken thumb.

“Well? Come now, Akako, Akane. Don’t you—” Madhuri gasped off, as Sear’s collapsing body dragged her down. Akane grabbed the key, fighting with her mangled fingers to grip it. She pressed it up to her manacles, finding the lock by feel. She was still keeping her eyes on Madhuri.

The other woman was on her knees when Akane finally broke free and crawled towards her. “No—” she tried to warn, as Madhuri took the handle of the saw in both hands and pulled it out of her own body. “You can’t – you’ll…you’ll…”

Madhuri fell forward, bracing herself on shaking hands as she nodded. “Yes. I know. But I won’t go with anything from that man inside of me.”

Akane used her good right hand to pull herself along until she made it to her savior’s side. Her presence seemed to signal to Madhuri that she could let go, and the other woman collapsed. Akane couldn’t even hold her up, only help to turn her onto her back. The blood from their wounds mingled and within seconds had soaked the ground around them both.

Madhuri’s eyes were beginning to waver and gloss over. Akane reached out with her good hand, taking Madhuri’s left. “Stay with me. Stay awake. Remember? Keep your eyes on me.”

They drifted instead, roving left and right. By the time Madhuri was looking at her, she wasn’t seeing Akane. “Ah…there you are.” The Indian woman smiled completely. “ _Bahin_ …Pinky. My sister.”

Akane opened her mouth to speak her name, to correct the mistake. But the mixed blood she sat in wouldn’t let her. “Madhuri. Please don’t go.”

“It’s alright. Okay. It’s okay.” Madhuri was still smiling. Her chest was taking long and longer to rise and fall. “You’re safe now. That’s…important.”

“No!” Akane cried her rejection. “No! You need to live too! You need to stay with me! Stay awake!”

“I am awake. I am here. I made it…in time.” Madhuri sighed, burping a bubble of blood. She smiled, her peaceful expression grotesque. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you…I’ve g—”

“Please don’t die.” Akane didn’t recognize this helpless, begging voice. She would not claim it as her own, nor the tears that accompanied it. “Not for me. Don’t die for me.”

“You…” Madhuri reached up the hand that had been meaninglessly plugging the hole in her side. She touched Akane’s face with her coated fingers, tugged on a strand of her hair. “ _You_.”

“Akane!”

Kougami’s voice reached her as if from far away and through something thicker than water. Perhaps it was the blood in her ears, or around her ankles. Akane kept her eyes on Madhuri’s own until neither one could see each other anymore. Only then did she raise her head to look at her horrified lover. “Why? Why did she? Why me? Why always me? I don’t…I didn’t…I…I’m not…I…I—”


	13. Set It Running

**Set it Running**

He gave himself a moment.

Just one, where he took in the blood-soaked scene, the two dead bodies, the bruised, battered form of his lover, and let himself feel. He let in the agony, the terror, the pain. He took on all the weight of his failure, and let it sink beneath his skin with all the others.

Then he moved to action.

“Akane.” He was at her side in a moment, kneeling down to crouch in the mingled blood. “Look at me. Focus. We need to move.”

Akane still clutched Madhuri’s hand. Kougami had to pry her shaking fingers from the stiff digits of the dead woman. That at least made her look up at him. “We have to go. I know a way out, but we can only make it if we get a head start. If the whole camp comes down on us, we’re as good as dead.”

Akane’s hand felt too limp in his, and too cold. Kougami started to feel rising panic, and stamped it down harshly. He had to get her out of the camp. That was the first priority. “Do you follow?”

“She died for me. People always seem to die for me – because of me. Why? It’s never made any sense. The numbers don’t add up.”

Kougami could hear, vague in the distance, the sounds of voices gathering together. “Akane—” He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed, just enough to force her to blink. When her eyes re-focused on him, he started to move them both to standing. “I need you to run with me. I can’t carry you, I need to be able to hold onto a few things or we’re not going to make it out there.”

Akane wobbled on her feet when he had her fully upright. Her short hair was plastered to her head by blood and sweat, and her eyes still verged on glassy. Kougami closed his eyes and shook his head. _Simple. Keep it simple. Get her out of here_. “Akane. We’re going to run.”

For a moment she swayed, her eyes drifting, and for a moment Kougami felt a fear that almost dropped him. Then the glaze passed, and it was Akane looking back at him once more. “I’m with you.”

Kougami let go of Akane with his right hand, and switched his left so he was gripping just above her bicep. “Hold on to me if you need to.”

The first thing he did when they reached the tent flap was ditch his pistol and grab Madhuri’s abandoned rifle. If Akane saw, she didn’t let it slow her. Despite all her wounds she kept up with him; Kougami was only half dragging her. With the gun slung over his shoulder, he led Akane rapidly through the camp.

As they wove in between the tents, Kougami kept alert, scanning the ground. When he spied the first bag, a small pack fitted with water and simple rations, he bent down and used the rifle muzzle to pick it up. He tilted the gun up as they jogged, managing to get the strap down and over his shoulder. He did the same with the next two that crossed their path. He was huffing with the effort by the time he could see the open expanse just beyond the camp.

So when he was hit from the side, the smaller man was able to send him spinning. Kougami was forced to fight to keep his footing, to hold onto Madhuri’s rifle. Akane slipped from his grip, but he couldn’t turn to look after her, not if he wanted to also face down Park.

“I know you. I always knew you.” Park aimed the pistol at Kougami, but he glared behind him to Akane – _good, she must still be standing_ – and snarled. “Both of you.”

Only the need to keep his sights trained on Park kept Kougami from rolling his eyes. He couldn’t help scoffing as he leveled his own weapon back on the upstart rebel. “Did you? I seem to remember you nipping at my heels back in Mongolia, begging me to teach you new tricks.” He angled himself slightly based off Park’s gaze, moving to block Akane. “From whence the newfound insight?”

“From the minute you brought that bitch into our camp!” Park hollered, and Kougami did wince at that; half the camp would hear. “You were supposed to be the one leading us against Sibyl. Instead you betray us – all for a piece of System pussy.”

“I’m beginning to understand why Madhuri felt the need to kick your ass all the time.”

“You murder her, steal her rifle, and now you mock her?” Park screamed. His hands shook with fury, as he grimaced with impotent rage. “How dare you!”

Kougami chuckled, causing Park to gasp. “C’mon. _You’re_ gonna defend her memory? Don’t tell me you miss her, Park. I seem to remember her kicking your teeth in the dirt half the time. Gonna tell me you had a thing for that? Well, you would be the type...”

“How _dare_ you, you _bastard_ —”

_There it is._ Park seethed and his pistol jerked slightly, exactly what Kougami had been seeking. In the momentary lapse, he whipped Madhuri’s rifle around and out, slamming it into Park’s shaking hands. Kougami lunged forward, but even in his surprise the smaller man was quick – Park dodged. Luckily, he was also hot-headed and primed with fresh anger. When Park kicked, Kougami took it in the chest, and grabbed the other man’s calf. He twisted with his hands and his waist, flinging Park onto his back. The younger man went down hard, winded, and Kougami pressed his advantage. Putting a boot to his chest, Kougami pulled the thick knife in his belt.

“No!”

Akane’s scream froze his hands. He moved his boot up to press against Park’s windpipe before glancing over his shoulder.

She stood there, eyes open wide, pupils wider, staring at him and holding her breath. He could see it, in the way her small chest refused to rise. She was drenched in blood, now splattered with dirt and mud from their run through the camp, rigid as a corpse. She watched him in horror, her mouth slightly open, fingers splayed at her sides. She seemed as pinned as Park by what Kougami was about to do.

The pause was enough for Kougami to hear the pounding of feet in the damp ground, the shouts. Park coughed a laugh that spit blood onto Kougami’s boot. “’Go ‘head. Kill me. Let them – see. You’re—” He grunted “—done either way.”

Kougami didn’t bother denying it. He kicked Park in the jaw, enough to make him cringe and roll over, before turning his back. He had Akane by the arm just as the others came into sight. He was pulling her into a run just as the Runners came towards them from the right and the left. Kougami saw Sato out of the corner of his gaze, just as he registered the stunned judgment in Akane’s eyes. He didn’t bend back down for a weapon, and when one of the packs fell as they fled, he let it lie. He sprinted them out in a zig-zag pattern like a hunted prey creature, not like a wolf at all.

Park was rolling up to his knees when the others met in the middle around him. He crawled forward to take up Madhuri’s rifle. With sweaty fingers he felt for the blood-wet trigger.

“No.”

Park gasped in frustration when Sato’s hand bore the muzzle down. He tried to lift it against the will of their leader, nearly crying when he was again denied. “They’re getting away!” he wailed hoarsely.

Sato did not let up the pressure on the gun. He watched as Kougami and his lover reached the trees. “So it will seem.”

 

~

They had stopped. Finally, they had stopped.

Akane was immensely grateful to the tree behind her for allowing her to sink to her knees with some dignity. Once she’d abandoned any attempt to stand, she let herself watch Kougami set up their camp, such as it was.

It mostly consisted of his jacket on the ground, and the contents of both stolen packs laid upon them. They would have no tent, but Akane could not feel rain in the air. And they had slept outside before.

“Damn. Damnit. C’mon, it has to be here.”

She watched Kougami rummage through the assorted bottles of water, small cubes and squares of rations, and tiny tins for pills. “Come on – yes.”

He popped open a medium sized tray and carefully selected several items from within. Once he had set them down on his jacket, he pivoted to face Akane.

Or rather, he didn’t face her. Instead he examined her torso and her legs, clinically taking in her injuries before he took up a clear, palm-sized bottle and a roll of bandages.

“This will hurt,” he said in a flat voice. He seemed to be talking to the cuts on her legs more than her. “We don’t have any spray-on bandages, and obviously no laser-care. Gonna have to do this the old fashioned way.”

The old-fashioned way. His way, she’d come to think of it. Everything about him was so classical, so bygone. She may have been naive, but her yearnings were never for the past. Her breath hitched when he poured the liquid over the worst of the wounds on her legs. And yet it was he who flinched.

“Your stomach. Those are the most dangerous. If any penetrated too deeply, the acids—” He broke off, his hands hovering just above her waist. “You have too many vital organs there.”

The pointless recital of dry facts they both knew finally registered. “Yes,” Akane managed to work past dry lips. “It’s important to address them.”

Permission given, Kougami peeled her shirt from her skin. Akane wrinkled her own nose at the smell, divorcing deliberately from her rancid body. Kougami dabbed the liquid on her extensive collection of injuries, following up with light, square bandages that clung to her sticky wounds. Akane watched him unwind the longer roll, blinking as it as it hovered a few inches from her stomach.

“It needs to go around.”

Akane stared at the white cloth stupidly for a few seconds, before again processing the meaning behind the overly simple words. “Oh. Right.”

She raised her back off the tree trunk as best she could to signal her consent. Kougami passed the bandage behind her from one hand to the next, meeting again in the front. He didn’t even touch her until the second winding, and then only a brush of his forearm. His skin was a shock to her, far too hot. Unless she was too cold, which was the likelier possibility.

He tied the knot in front of her, taking great care to make it firm but not too tight. She stared down at it for the few moments before he withdrew. She tried to raise her eyes to meet his, but was too sluggish. He’d already moved off to the side, his gaze on their stolen rations.

“Here.” He brought the bottle of water into her sight line. Akane lifted her hands, but she could barely feel it when her fingers wrapped around the neck. Kougami had to guide it to her lips. Her only glimpse of his eyes came through the bottle as he raised it; she drank and stared at his warped reflection in the bubbles.

When he let her set it down she was tired, so tired. She didn’t protest when Kougami repositioned her, didn’t question what it was he used to keep her head elevated. She did hear it when he fumbled with something that tugged at his dog tags. He lay the fabric over her upper body. When it tickled her chin and carried his scent, she realized, despite his torso now being a dim blur.

“You...you’ll be cold,” she said, or tried to say. Her lips were heavy.

“Sleep. You need it.”

He was right. Her lids were already down.


	14. The Moon the Breaks the Night

**The Moon that Breaks the Night**

 

She was healing. Piece by piece, and day by slow day – but she was, and quicker than he would have calculated. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Tsunemori Akane had continually shown him three predominant qualities; adaptability, dedication, and resilience. Healing rapidly tracked perfectly with who she was. He could safely assume she would continue to do so; there was no need to watch her so closely.

That was his logical, cold-eyed assessment. Kougami made it, logged it, and then went right on examining her whenever he had the chance.

He did most of his watching in those first few days at night, just before the sun went down. She knew she needed to sleep to heal, and even when she might have protested, her body dragged her down soon enough, giving him a few hours of waning light to inspect her by. Luckily none of her injuries had punctured major organs. Kougami’s greatest fear had been that something would be damaged that he couldn’t see, where his basic medical skills, gleaned here and there from battlefield experience, couldn’t help him. But as the mottled bruises on her skin began to fade, he could detect only surface wounds. Bad ones, to be sure, ones which would scar. But ones she would survive.

She was walking straighter every day, rising earlier each dawn. Loathe as he was to push her, Kougami had found himself extending the distance they covered in daylight. When she managed to steal one of the packs from him, putting the strap firmly over her head and turning to stare him down with well-known stubbornness, he did not fight her. That night, he found their rations divvied up equally. When he left some of his hard, six-day power bread untouched, Akane shot him the same, stern-eyed look of resistance. Kougami had to eat it, if only to hide his smile.

Her hands. They continued to gnaw at him. He’d used the majority of the bandages and cleansing liquid on her torso and leg injuries, leaving next to nothing for her fingers. Now he regretted it each time she winced as she tried to curl her hands around the strap of the pack. The bastard had stuck something up under each and every one of her nail beds, and ripped four on her right hand clean off. Akane could make herself walk, but she couldn’t hide her pain whenever she had to hold a bottle, or her failure to make a fist. Kougami stewed silently for as long as he could, and then one night he waited until her slow, deep breathing signaled heavy slumber. He worked throughout the night, and the next morning Akane arose to find her fingers carefully cleaned and wrapped. Sharp-eyed as she was, she was quick to notice the missing strips from Kougami’s shirt, and the torn state of his own fingers. He wondered if she would finally comment; when she didn’t, he wondered if he had done it half out of the hope for a break to their silence. And he was ashamed.

He could not avoid fault, and it was not in his nature to try. He accepted what his choices and actions cost him, and he freely took on the burdens of others. He would have gladly carried every burden, every bruise, every laceration she wore as his own. For indeed, they were. She had made no attempt to hide it; she’d stayed for him. And _he_ had not made _enough_ of an attempt to hide what they were, and what they were doing. Her scars were rightly his. He tended them as if he could somehow transfer the pain, and when she had healed enough that he could not do so with his hands, he worried them sore in his mind, nursing his anguish as if it would cure a body he now took the greatest of pains to leave untouched.

Because _that_. That was the cause of it all. _He_ had been the one to pull her back when she turned her back, and he did not forget it. He could not. His body had turned traitor, and rather than subdue it to protect them both, he’d given in. Freely. She had not seduced or coerced him. She had done nothing more than be as she always was, and he’d crossed the line purely because he’d wanted to. _Still_ wanted to, and for that alone he burned himself in the night, using the lighter that had no cigarettes, as if he could sear the heated desire from his treacherous skin.

And there – yet another open wound he couldn’t cauterize. He could have felt some satisfaction in killing Sear, if only to know that the ghost would join Makishima in being his to carry. But no. Madhuri had slain that demon, and been slain in turn. Now both the worthy and unworthy dead haunted Akane so blatantly he could practically see their shades walking at her side.

It festered in him. Not just the guilt, but the stabbing knowledge of how complicit he truly was. It bled through his otherwise analytical focus to get them as far from the Runner’s path as he could by day. It drove sleep even further from his already fractured cycle every night they laid down, separately, a frozen distance of two feet between them. He would not touch her. She was to be safe from him now, and forever forward. He would smother his desires as he always had, even if they choked and drowned him. That was his promise.

Laughable. A farce of the rankest sort. When had he ever been able to keep a promise? Kougami turned over on the root-strewn ground in the dark and bit his hand to keep from chuckling, it was such a bad joke. He continued biting until he tasted blood, lapping it and then letting it drip down his lips. Thus soothed, he curled around himself, half-tortured by her scent, and waited for the dawn.

~

“So. Where exactly are we headed?”

Akane breeched first. She modulated her voice, and kept her back to him. It was still minutes till sundown.

“Away. As far as possible. That good with you?”

“Can I suggest a specific destination?”

She could hear him pause. She inhaled into the same silence in which he breathed out. “Alright then. What did you have in mind?”

“An old friend, actually.”

Now he turned; Akane could hear him shifting, his dog tags jingling. “Really.”

She let herself smile just a little as she pivoted to face him. “If we’re anywhere near Tokyo, we’ll be able to react his house.”

“His…”

“House. Yes.”

Akane watched his face. Kougami could mask his emotions and thoughts easily if he so chose – if he was in complete control. Lately, of course, he wasn’t. And, like the individual she suggested, Akane made her own face as blank as possible, the better to draw out answering expressions from his.

What Kougami did was squint. “Alright. I’ll bite. Whose house? Someone I know...not Gino. Shion?” He frowned; there were tiny creases around his mouth from new wear. “You’ve got me stumped, Inspector. You and I don’t exactly share many clear-hued friends.”

“This one isn’t either. But I was able to convince the System that Saiga-san would be more useful where he could better provide us with insight on cases. And you yourself know how much he hates being surrounded by technology.”

Akane let her voice drift up at the end, inviting him to share in the petty triumph.

The frown lines did not deviate. “You were able to convince them to let him out of his cage?”

_Them. Not it._ “Well, he _is_ monitored. He has a chip embedded into his upper calf, like the old tracking bracelets for criminals. And his home is walled. But he’s able to move freely within it! And it’s outside the city; no holographs, no drones—”

“You said you were able to convince them; how?”

Kougami’s interruption jolted her. Akane had been trying to keep her face plain as Saiga had taught, to hide her thoughts and give Kougami the space to reveal his own. Now she realized Kougami’s unmoving frown served the same purpose. “It was over a year ago. There was a case involving a criminal we caught, who we suspected of being a previously active serial killer, and of having…having live victims stashed somewhere. But he’d deliberately damaged his brain right before we captured him, making a mind scoop impossible without re-constructing those damaged areas. Through a careful study of the subject’s previous life and crimes, Saiga was able to paint a clear enough picture for the medical drones to build an approximation holo of his mind. That led us to the victims – and we were able to save two of them.”

“And that was all?”

“All?” Akane blinked; Kougami’s eyes remained half-hooded but trained on hers. “We determined our subject was the serial killer responsible for ten previous murders, and we were able to save two lives.”

“And Sibyl cared so much about those lives that it freed Saiga?” Now Kougami’s expression did change, as his lips twitched up into a smirk. “Is that really your estimation of how the System rates what is most valuable?”

Akane let the chill go up her spine as the sun dipped below the horizon. “No. Saiga was able to display skills Sibyl couldn’t replicate. In exchange, it was willing to grant him leeway, so long as it continues to benefit from his willing deployment of those skills. The service he provided was simply too valuable to be deterred by locking him up in a cage. It was so obvious the System itself couldn’t fail to make that calculation.”

Akane watched a strange series of looks flit across Kougami’s face. First was one she had come to know well from Saiga himself. Pride gave way to dismay, and then – unless she was wrong ( _she hoped she was wrong)_ – anger. “So. You helped him escape.”

The words were at odds with his face. Akane gave up trying to read him with a suppressed growl. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly. But you engineered a means of freedom for him. So, it had the same net effect as you springing him from the containment facility.”

Kougami was seated with one knee up, one hand behind him on the bare earth, the picture of relaxation. If Akane had seen him only a month before in his pose, she might not have been able to detect the tension in his every muscle as he fingered his dog tags. But she had experienced enough of his body now to gauge the depth of his fury. “You once said I had some kind of power to compel people to follow my lead. But it seems to me...you have that kind of ability as well. Especially when it comes to Sybil.”

The insult didn’t come as a complete surprise, and so it shouldn’t have spun her.

It did.

“Am I contaminated, then, in your eyes?” she demanded. When Kougami looked away, Akane made as much of a fist as she could with her still ruined hands. “Is that it?”

He didn’t answer. He sat utterly still, no more than an arm’s length away, and Akane was paralyzed by his refusal to speak. She couldn’t read him; she couldn’t reach him. Suddenly, and with a physical ringing in her ears like a great tolling bell, she couldn’t stretch out anymore. She unclenched her fists. She let her hands fall. She accepted. “I understand. After everything I’ve cost – if I disgust you now, I understand.”

“That’s low of you, Akane.”

“What?”

Kougami’s face remained turned away. Still, the anger in his voice was just as unmistakable the second time. “I find you…bring you out of that…and you accuse me of laying it all on you? What kind of man do you think I am?”

“I…”

“Am I the kind to do that? Truly?” He didn’t let her finish. His words overrode hers, and then seemed to override themselves, coming out too fast and manic for the stoic, considerate man she knew. “Am I the kind of man who pulls someone down with him and then scorns them when they get covered in the same muck? Huh? Do I seem the type to do that? _Did_ I? Or, are you only seeing it now?”

“N—”

“Of course – it only makes itself known in situations like this; a man’s _real_ character. So. That’s who I am, huh? The guy who pulls other people in – just like him – and then, what? Tosses them aside when he doesn’t have any more _use_ for them?”

He laughed, and it was the worst thing to ever touch her ears. “I mean, you tell me. You would know better than I. You saw it; you always saw everything so clearly. You were the only one out of all of us to see it. We thought it was naïvete at first. Then you starting proving us wrong; the inspectors, the enforcers, Makishima, Sibyl itself. You could always find the one road that was the right one, even when all of us thought it was lost. Except, you missed one crucial detail – didn’t you? You thought I was better than I was, better than a hunting dog. You thought it, and you were right about so much else that I started to think it. So we’re both fools then. Fine. No. _You_ might be a fool. _I’m_ something more malevolent. I don’t have the excuse of idealism – I’d abandoned it. I only picked it up when I was around you. Acting like I could cleanse myself by proximity, _using_ you to—no. No, even _that’s_ too kind. If I cared about being clean I would have followed you, not pulled you in. I chose the latter route; I _let_ it happen, because I had already forsaken every other ounce of restraint I possessed, so, what the hell. Hell. I didn’t care about living in it, so long as I was free. And then – then I didn’t care about getting out, about getting you out, even when I knew it would burn you. So. That’s the kind of man I am. Right? Aren’t I? Am I _that_ kind of man to you? In your eyes?” Akane could see the muscles in his neck and shoulders tighten, and for a moment was almost afraid. “If so, shouldn’t you be running back to your compound, rather than offering to lead the mad dog through the door? Or better yet – put a gun to my head and judge me, like you were _meant_ to. _Inspector_.”

“No! What? How could you—” And she thought he had shocked her before. “Shinya, I never—”

“No, _don’t_ call me that.” He seized up, and _now_ Akane was afraid. “Don’t. I should – _never_ have demanded that of you. I should never have demanded any of this from you. Don’t, just…just stay away from me. Far away. I’ll take you to Saiga’s. Then…then you can decide if you want to shoot me or let me go.”

The whirlwind stopped abruptly, just like that. Akane took a moment to catch her breath, to try and sort through her feelings. He had gone from furious, to hurt, to self-loathing, to admission and acceptance with barely a pause, and without once giving her a backward glance. He had once again run ahead of her, far ahead. And, once again, he had made the decision of where to stop, giving her an ultimatum that left her with no real options.

And now she was angry.

“You’re right. This _does_ show me your _real_ character.”

Kougami stiffened, and then gasped when she stood up sharply, stepped quickly around him, and then knelt down so that they were face-to-face. Now she could see him, and when he tried to look away, she reached out and – to his even greater shock – took his jaw in both hands to force him to meet her eyes. “This shows me that when push comes to shove? When you’re forced to address the truth about yourself, and what you want? You run. You’re more afraid of losing – no, of even _having_ what you really want, than of living your whole life in comfortable denial. Aren’t you? Am I seeing clearly now?”

“Akane—”

“No. I’ve had _enough_ of you telling me what I am. You didn’t demand anything of me – and if you had? Do you think you could have forced me? Into _anything_ I didn’t want? You want to take on _my_ sins? How much of a martyr do you want to be, _Kougami_? Or are you just that selfish?”

His blue eyes widened, still visible in the dark. He was moving from shocked to stunned. Good. She wasn’t done talking.

“Well, tough. You don’t get to decide to take on the burden of everything that happens to me. You aren’t my guard dog – you _never_ were. And I am not your handler. I never was. I am not just some weight for you to carry. I am not abstract. I am _right here_ , and I have been the whole time.”

And then she had said all she had to say, and she didn’t want to hear him say another word.

Kougami reacted with a full-throated sound of shocked protest into her mouth. He clenched his eyes shut, and his hands came up to grip Akane’s ribs. He was going to try and push her away; she could feel it in the strained press of his fingers. But he was trying to navigate a way to do so without hurting her, and that gave her precious time. She used it to good effect, slipping her hands into his wild hair for a grip of her own, and rising up against him. She leveraged her kisses, making them fast and hard, forcing him to draw breath from her own lungs.

The press of his fingers did tighten, but he could not dislodge her. It was all he could do to tear his lips from hers. As soon as he did he turned his head away and closed his eyes, as if he could will temptation away by denying its existence. “Don’t.”

“Shinya.”

He hissed at her use of his name, in direct defiance of his earlier command. He hissed worse when she sunk down, refusing to let him pull free when he leaned back. Her hands slipped from his hair to his neck, and when she sought out his lips he didn’t fight as he should have. He let her open his mouth again, dipping her tongue inside to tangle with his, as if she didn’t give a damn about the words he’d spent trying to drive her away.

He tried to bring up his hands again in resistance, but Akane parried him, taking his forearms. She pressed herself against him, waist and hips against his to bear him down. Kougami gave a shamed whispered curse at his own weakness, and just managed to break free of her mouth. Akane redirected, took advantage of the helpless arch of his back that left his neck stretched and unprotected. She pressed lips to it, teeth to it. If he wanted bruises of his own, she would give them to him.

Kougami was losing. His breath came harder and harsher with rising panic and rising lust. Akane moved her hands to his chest, to the place where his heart was hammering. Her fingers traced down, to the frayed edges of his shirt, where her bandages found their match. He was heaving under her, still trying to work a ‘no’ up out of his throat, when she pressed her palms to bare skin and moved them in opposite directions; one up, one down. He groaned then, loud and pained and desperate. “Akane…”

He hadn’t said no. He hadn’t, and she wasn’t feeling inclined to mercy. Anger still burned in her, sending much needed heat and vigor to her still healing extremities. So when he collapsed back onto his elbows, panting and yet still trying to beg, she didn’t stop. His belt wasn’t difficult to manage in the dark, especially when she ignored his gasped, wordless protests. And it was easy to push his shirt up, to give her his bare chest to press flush against. He was shivering, but he didn’t fight now when she kissed him. He was battling on two fronts, and Akane knew she had his body as an ally. She occupied his mouth as she quickly, practically shoved aside as much of her own clothing as she needed.

She put both hands on his upper chest to brace herself. Kougami fell fully onto his back when she slid up and onto him, groaning openly in defeat. He couldn’t even raise his arms to grip her, digging his nails into the dirt on either side of him instead. Akane was sore, her hips and legs still scabbed and bruised. But she could marry any pained groans to pleasured ones, and when his knees irresistibly pulled up in answer, they gave much needed support to her lower back.

Kougami was now just fighting to keep silent. Now. Belatedly. When there was no longer a need. Akane took it as the gravest offense, and let out her own, throaty, high-pitched cries all the louder. She had it, somewhere in the back of her furious and feverish mind, that he might answer her keening like the beast he took his name from.

They definitely had an effect; Kougami arched into her with every whine and shriek she gave voice to. Through hooded lids she gazed down at him. He was past resisting, but he was still protesting, wincing at every upwards thrust he gave, at every moan that escaped his grit teeth, as if each were a betrayal. Akane wouldn’t repent, and as the heat began to wind and tighten its grip on her lower abdomen, she bent down to kiss along Kougami’s jawline.

“Please.”

The words were choked and low, an abject plea, and Akane still wasn’t feeling merciful. She kissed him again, softly but completely, proving a point. She was well aware that crying out her orgasm into his mouth was an unforgivable expression of dominance. But his answering jerk of release was submission, and she held her position as he spilled himself, keeping him trapped even as he shuddered to a finish. Then, to mark her victory even more fully, she wound her hands into his now sweat-teased, dirtied mane and kissed him again. Firmly, so as to leave him without any doubts, or foolish notions of escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because even though I should have been novel-ing, or at least working on my other fic update...I LOVE YOU ALL, and re-watched the movie with the friend who introduced me to Psycho-Pass, who IMMEDIATELY saw the shipping. This means even those who watch the show mainly for the philosophical discussions, as she did, pick up instantly on it.
> 
> So I got psyched, my Hue clouded, and y'all get this. I ADORE every one of you, your reviews give me life! Hope you enjoy this update. Many kisses and hugs!


	15. Saints

_Wozers!_

_Boy, has this "wee bit o' smut" turned into a for-real series! I completely and totally blame all of you, for all your wonderful comments and reviews are what has kept me writing this, even when I have another long-running fiction series, AND a new novel, AND several scripts I should be working on! *Shakes fists*_

_But in all honesty, I love each and every single one of y'all. It means the world to me that so many other Psycho-Pass and Shinkane fans are enjoying this, and every time you review or comment you refuel me for another addition. It warms the cockles of my black, dark soul, and leaves me clear hued, so thank you ALL SO MUCH. Hugs, and here you go._

**Saints**

“Stop.”

Akane put her arm out. She felt Kougami bump against it, the hard plans of his lower chest and abs, just before he pulled quickly back. Akane swallowed through the pain of that instant, instinctive rejection, and nodded at the thinned woods ahead. “One more step, and we’re in range of the sensory detection system. A few feet beyond that, we have the cameras to deal with.”

“And beyond that?”

“The walled compound.”

“Uh-huh.”

Akane didn’t turn to look at Kougami, as she slowly lowered her arm. Still, his voice made her shiver; deeply, internally. “You said he was monitored.”

“Only the exterior compound. Within he is free of all surveillance. For his work.”

“So. All we need to do is get inside. Well, that should be nice and suicidal.”

And _that_ was as much as he’d said to her since that night.

Akane tried to hide her trembling, terrified and hopeful, terrified for _being_ hopeful, all at once. From the moment he had arisen from their dirt-and-leaf makeshift bed, Kougami had foregone speech.

In the four days it had taken them to get to Saiga’s complex, Kougami had said not one word. Even when he located a spot near enough to Tokyo to get their bearings (but far enough to be clear of drones) he had barely reacted when Akane volunteered the direction of their mutual mentor’s new home. He’d merely glanced down past her outstretched arm, following the trajectory to the tiny cluster of buildings peeking out of the sea of golden hyper-oats. Then he’d trotted off, like a dog given a rag to scent – obedient, but silent.

Now they stood less than two miles from a man who could see through you like you were glass – a man Kougami had introduced her to, back before she understood how much it meant that he chose to do so. Akane had never liked old clichés; but _something_ seemed to rise up from her chest and get caught in her throat. She swallowed it down, and made herself speak. “Before we go, I have to know one thing.”

She looked to Kougami; he raised a brow to let her know he was listening.

“Do you hate me?”

The slight outtake of breath was her only sign that he’d heard her. As another minute ticked by without a response, Akane again felt that something move further up her throat. “Do you—”

“It would make things much simpler between us if I did, wouldn’t you say?”

“Shin—”

“You would notice, Inspector.”

The words were brusque, but his tone softened just slightly at the end, and he gave her the barest of glances. Not much – but enough to see that his cool blue eyes didn’t hold disgust or fury. “C’mon – if we’re gonna do this, we should take advantage of your inside knowledge. Lead the way.”

Akane felt the pressure ease back down her throat. She side-stepped her way to the trunk of a particularly accommodating tree. “Here.” She mounted it and began to clamber her way up, biting back the pain in her fingers. About half-way up, she stopped and turned back to Kougami, clinging to the branches. “It’s up this way.”

She had said it mostly to prompt him to question, an excuse to hear his voice again. But Kougami only nodded, and proceeded to climb up after her, so swiftly that he was soon crouched just at her back. The tree bent slightly under his added weight, but held as he regarded her with a gaze that was too bright for her to read. “Interesting.”

She nodded, feeling like a dog herself, having done a trick for a treat. “We thought so. This series of trees leads all the way to the left of the compound from here. We’re too high for ground sensors, and the cameras are angled down. As long as we don’t fall, the only point where we need to worry about exposure is when we go over the wall.”

Kougami nodded again. “Smart. I’d expect nothing less.”

_From Saiga-san? Or from me?_

Akane didn’t ask the question. She turned around, and started onto the next tree. Its branches were tangled up with the first, making the transition not too difficult. She had tested this once before, when she and Saiga had worked out the way for her to visit him secretly. She had only used it that one time; she didn’t want to risk him losing the small freedom he had gained for trivial matters.

At around the fourth tree in the line, she chanced a look back. If she was looking for an excuse to slow down, or reach out a hand to help him, both were quelled by the way Kougami navigated the jump from tree to tree. What had taken her over four hours to learn, he mastered in moments. Akane found herself enthralled, just watching how his quick blue eyes shifted from branch to branch, the way he deftly crept from one to the other. A man of his heavy build should have shook the trees, should have snapped twigs left and right. But, no. Kougami was the kind of man whose strength belied his grace of movement. He could seem utterly forbidding, and then, all of a sudden, betray it with gentleness.

“Inspector?”

Akane bit the inside of her cheek hard. “Yes. Almost there.”

They were – the wall was in sight, only one more tree left between them. Akane slowed now, and knew without looking that Kougami was matching her cautious approach. They inched their way to the last branch, the one that provided them their only vantage point down into the compound.

Saiga’s refuge from technology lay within, a sprawling bungalow complete with a porch. A small, man-made lake lay off to one side, a traditional sand garden on the other. The one road that led up to his door ended just below them to their right, where the massive gate was the last bit of automated tech from their century.

Akane felt it when Kougami crept onto the branch just behind her, his breath hot on her shoulder. She knew she didn’t have to tell him what she was waiting for. He could feel it in the ripple that reverberated out towards him, making the thinner branches around them lash their faces. When the drone veered into sight above them, Kougami instinctively flinched, ready to spring. Akane kept her eyes on the drone, as if looking away would somehow cause it to see them.

The drone slowly made its rounds, circling the interior of the compound twice, winding inward. It hovered above Saiga’s home, and both Kougami and Akane blinked as it began its scan. She let out a low, soft sigh when it finished, and then immediately held her breath as it zoomed towards them. She could feel her heartbeat slowing as it came closer, veering to the left and right. The drone lowered, clipping dangerously close to the tops of the trees. When it passed above them, Akane looked up. She could only see it out of the farthest corner of her eye. For a split second she almost choked, sure that its animatronic eye had turned towards them. But then it passed on, moving away from them at the same, steady pace. She relaxed, and Kougami adjusted in his crouch. “And now?”

His words were warm against her ear. The blood started flowing back into her nearly numb fingers. “Now the clock starts.”

Akane crawled forward, until the branch started to bend dangerously under her weight. The drop was only a few feet – all she needed to do was push a bit, and let herself fall. She belatedly remembered to slap the ground and roll, ending up in a heap where the grass gave way to the edge of the sand garden. Pushing herself to her bruised knees, she was able to watch Kougami land with enviable grace. He tucked and rolled up into a side lunge he made look sinfully easy, and then looked to her for direction. When she winced getting to her feet, she saw him frown, but she chose to turn away from his concern and begin the sprint to the house. He quickly matched her pace, but let her lead the way. She skirted the sand lest they leave tracks, making for the small side door between the rocks of the garden and the lotus pond.

Summoning what breath she had left, Akane made the tiny, high-pitched imitation bird-whistle Saiga had taught her. She wasn’t sure if he would hear; too late, she realized they were headed at the door too fast to stop. She was bracing herself for impact when it swung open. She stumbled, hitting Saiga’s couch at a run, and slipping on his recently cleaned floors. Akane hit the ground hard, a sharp jolt going up her spine as her backside slammed the floor. Her only consolation was the blurry image of Kougami smacking into one of Saiga’s shelves and experiencing the full magnitude of _War and Peace_ , _Atlas Shrugged_ , and the _King James Bible_ as they pounded in succession into his head.

“Hmm.”

Saiga slowly came into Akane’s focus. Her mentor adjusted his customary glasses; even in the unusually warm weather of early autumn he wore a turtleneck. “This was unexpected. I’ll have to put on a second pot of coffee.”

Akane blinked. “We’re…sorry to inconvenience you, Saiga-san.”

Saiga Jogi raised one elegant brow. “How polite of you, Inspector. Considering you bring a wanted fugitive along with you only moments after my afternoon drone survey, I’d say you’ve finally mastered the MWPSB’s art of downplaying the severity of your imposition.”

His words were dry, but the brief twitch of his upper lip was enough to betray his amusement. He wasn’t angry. “So…Kougami. Long time.”

Saiga’s former student groaned, on his back and buried beneath books, and the former professor’s wicked twist became a full-scale grin. “Find anything you like down there, and you can keep it.”

“Uh…” Kougami rolled over onto his left elbow, wincing. “I don’t think I’ve read this one,” he said dazedly, pushing _Atlas Shrugged_ off of his chest.

“I never assigned it in class; despite my reputation I actually didn’t enjoy torturing my students,” Saiga stated flatly. “Believe me, having it slammed directly onto your skull is the least painful way to experience Ayn Rand.”

Saigas expression invited them to smile, and Akane couldn’t help but share hers with Kougami. It was a mistake, of course. He returned it, briefly, and just a shade too warm. Then he compensated by quickly breaking her gaze, and stumbling to his feet. “Inspector Tsunemori was in need of medical attention.”

Saiga looked over Kougami from over his glasses. Kougami’s face was back to stoic neutral, but when Saiga finally turned to Akane, he spoke with just the hint of satisfaction. “She was, I imagine. However, she seems to be returning to fighting shape. Still, whatever supplies are in my possession, she is welcome to.”

The blunt former educator had a softened look in his eye. With deepest embarrassment, Akane realized he was giving her an opportunity to share voluntarily – the schoolteacher willing to accept the student’s own messy summation in place of his.

She got to her feet as well. “I _was_ injured. But by now it’s nothing time and rest won’t fix. We don’t mean to put you in danger – but if we could pause and get our bearings here, we would more than appreciate it.”

She watched Saiga’s face closely. If he was disappointed, he kept it to himself. “Right then. Coffee.”

~

To call it awkward, Akane decided, would be a disservice to the word itself.

They surrounded the central table in Saiga’s kitchen, each with coffee cups in hand. Saiga sat in his favored blue chair, while Akane was across from him, perched on the edge of a low brown sofa. Kougami lingered behind her, standing, almost leaning, on the door back to the living room. Since being plied with hot black coffee, neither she nor Kougami had offered any kind of explanation to their mutual teacher.

Saiga had a micro-frown working a crease between his eyes. He had fiddled with his glasses more than once, and each time Akane had tensed as if for a blow. She didn’t know where this overwhelming need to hide had come from, but she knew, by his prolonged silence, that Kougami shared it.

_Is he ashamed_? Akane tried not to worry her lip, substituting the urge with a sip from her cooling mug. _And is it of me? Or just...because of me?_

“Well. You two make quite a pair.”

Akane nearly spit out her drink – not for the first time in this situation.

“I understood you were to undertake some covert mission for the MWPSB,” Saiga continued. “But I didn’t know it involved apprehending the notorious enforcer-cum-terrorist Kougami Shinya.”

“Yes.” Akane cleared her throat, recovering. “My mission involved obtaining first-hand information on the terrorist group the Sunset Runners. En— Kougami-san helped me to escape when my infiltration—” Here Akane found herself fumbling to finish her cover-up. “Went side-ways.”

“I see.” Saiga kept his gaze on her. “You’re quite the wanted man now, Kougami. And no wonder – it appears you emerge at the center of all of the most interesting developments, foreign and domestic.”

Kougami took a long moment to respond. “Sorry, sensei, for pulling you into all this.”

“Don’t be morose, Shinya. Or at least, don’t put on airs,” Saiga chided. “It is Tsunemori who brought me into this. And I owe her a turn for my current arrangement.” He directed his gaze briefly around them, to indicate the house. “I don’t need apologies, not when I’m living more freely than most latent criminals in this country. Whatever “all this” is, I very much doubt anyone will be left untouched when it reaches its conclusion.”

“All this—” Akane cleared her throat apologetically, rather than saying it aloud. “It’s sensitive material, Saiga-san. If you ask, I am not sure how much I could in good conscience tell you.”

“And you will note that I did not ask.” Saiga smiled, wry and sad together. “Give me credit, Inspector, for at least knowing when to stem my curiosity. I don’t play the fool well, but I can recognize when knowing less is the safest option. I’m afraid it looks as though neither of you has that luxury.”

Akane nodded her head in solemn agreement. Saiga’s sharp eyes held hers for a long moment, and then he tracked his gaze to Kougami. He spent a good minute looking over the man behind them, and whatever he saw seemed to make him decisive. “Well. If I can’t offer you anything else, I think I’ll leave you both to discuss whatever matters are too dangerous for my ears.”

Saiga stood, cracking his neck slightly. Akane stood as well, and she could hear Kougami straighten up behind her. _Like good little students,_ she thought. _Good students eager to keep the teacher seeing them as good little students. And nothing more._ “We’ll be gone as soon as it’s safe to move.”

“Oh, no rush.” Saiga chuckled. “I don’t get much company outside of you, Inspector. Having you two here should be stimulating.”

Akane’s throat tightened, but when Saiga made no follow-up comments, she felt herself relax. She could almost hear Kougami unwinding as Saiga walked to the door.

“Oh.” Saiga paused at the threshold, cup in hand. “I do find on these warmer nights, that I sleep best out on my patio. The cool air refreshes me, enables the mind to take in the silence more fully. Do feel free to make use of my room, as I shall not be needing it.”

He started forward, and then paused again. He did not turn to look at them, but his smile could be gauged by the humorous lilt in his next words. “Incidentally, I find my hearing to be growing dim in my advancing years. If you were to call out to me in the night, I could not promise I would hear you. In fact, I believe I feel an attack of just such an impairment is imminent, and likely to leave me incapacitated. Well. Good night.”

~

Of course he knew about the sex.

That bit was obvious and unsurprising. It would have taken a far blinder man than Saiga was to miss the desperate, growing yearning in Akane. A fool could be forgiven for missing the same in a man as circumspect as Kougami, though Saiga suspected his colleagues would have caught on. It was inevitable that such mutual attraction as strong as theirs would eventually boil over. Saiga imagined it would have happened far sooner, if not for, well—

_Politics._ He grinned as he leaned back into his chair, his gaze directed upon towards the clear night sky, even as his thoughts were directed behind him, to the two people inside his house. _Ah, how many lovers have had cause to shake their fists at that particular obstacle, eh?_

That they had thought themselves capable of hiding it was truly humorous. Even if he had not trained for years to read the millions of tells human beings gave off unconsciously, Saiga still would have known, _had_ known, from practically the instant they tumbled through his door. There was simply a certain way two people who were lovers moved, when they were in a room together. Connected, even if they did not touch. Especially if they were in that particularly potent flush of passion when sex was more need than pleasure. It was something akin to a time of heat, Saiga mused, a regression back to the ways of the rest of the animal kingdom.

“ _Akane!”_

Saiga reacted to his most promising student’s strangled cry of passion with further clinical speculation. The consummation itself may have been a forgone conclusion, but their disparate reactions to it _were_ interesting. When he had first met Akane, she had been young and eager and Sibyl-fresh – unburdened by the truth of the underbelly of their world. She had seemed slight and vulnerable next to Kougami, already so world-weary at twenty-eight. And yet, all had not gone as might be expected. Yes, Akane had become less innocent, as she grew and learned. But she did not bend and break under the weight he and Kougami had been unable to shoulder. Rather, she’d gathered a quiet, firm strength from each of the dark revelations and tragedies she’d suffered, lifting up those around her, as if her softly insistent hope were a virus.

“Yes – _Shinya_ —yes…”

Yes; he’d seen it in the strained tension that both pulled and pushed them apart when they were in his living room, like magnets being spun to contrast either end. It was in the palpable fear in Kougami’s face, the stiff way he held himself, such a difference from the fluid new way Akane used her body, as if she had finally claimed and unlocked its truest center. Whatever had happened to take them to the physical level of their relationship, it had made Akane more confident. And it had terrified Kougami.

“N—Akane…” Kougami’s groan sounded through the walls, clenched and desperate. It was the sound of a concession, and Saiga was less pleased than usual to have his hypothesis confirmed. But he was right – his former student, the feared and respected Kougami Shinya, international "terrorist", ace detective, had picked a losing fight with himself. For a man who unsettled so many, Kougami clearly did not take being at the mercy of his own desires well.

Saiga was not without sympathy. Kougami had always been an intellectual man, even in the days before his latent status had thrown a wrench in any romantic opportunities he might have wanted. Though driven to help people, he held them at somewhat of a distance – and perhaps that was why so many were so drawn to him. What was alluring and just out of reach was always most desirable.

Except now, where Kougami had clearly learned that once indulged in, his physical and emotional needs could provoke a thirst not easily quenched. For a man who prided himself upon being disciplined and driven, in control enough to put others before himself, Saiga imagined learning there was a part of himself, long neglected, that once woken could hijack his senses, steal his reason, and force him to do its biding, was horrifying for Kougami. He had seen the bruises and cuts on Tsunemori; had seen Kougami’s guilt-ridden expression, just once, when he had dropped his guard. Saiga had no fear that Kougami had actually caused those wounds – even subject to his basest instincts, Kougami was the type to chew off his own hand rather than allow it to harm someone he cared for. But somehow his protégé had decided he deserved the burden of them anyways, and somehow it was linked with this new, terrifying status of them as lovers.

“Ak—”

“ _Shinya.”_

The muffled cries within peaked, reaching crescendo, and Saiga couldn’t help but grin, dryly. But of course it was terrifying. Such things always were. Even without the added dangers of their jobs, of war zones and mercenaries, of deviant systems of control and violence lapping at their shores, lust was still rightly to be feared. A system like Sibyl could pre-package it, choosing fit partners, applying technology to stave off diseases and pregnancy, dressing courting up in the same bright, cheery, stultifying holograms it used to defend its citizens from all other forms of stress. It could promise that love and sex could be safely had, _should_ be safely had, just as it would promise a world free of pain for those it deemed worthy. And, like all of its wares, it would be selling a lie.

“Ancient, pre-hominid news,” Saiga murmured, recalling from memory the quoted passage. “Sex is dangerous. It always has been, for every species that engages in it. Courting and copulating animals are exposed animals, subject to greater risk of predation than animals who are chastely asleep in their burrow; not only do mating animals usually perform their rituals out in the open, but their attention is so focused on the particulars of fornication that they fail to notice the glint of a gaping jaw or the flap of a raptors wing. Pregnancy, disease, threat of death by stoning—yes, sex has always been chancy. Momentum is chancy, and sex is nothing if not momentous. Let us not forget that. Let us not be so intimidated by overwork or familiarity or trimethylamines that we forget the exquisite momentum of sexual hunger.”

~

Gasping, desperately trying to refill lungs emptied of air by her – she winced, _too loud_ – cries, Akane finally opened her eyes to look down at her lover.

Kougami looked up at her with eyes at half-mast. His chest was still rising and falling rapidly, heavily, under her hands. Sweat-droplets covered his face. His hair was slicked to the pillow below him, and Akane could still feel the slight tremors working their way through his body. “You certainly like to rub it in when you prove a point.”

Akane flushed, and the new rush of blood to her head made her dizzy. “I—”

“It’s okay. Point taken.”

Flustered, she nevertheless refused to break his gaze. “I don’t – I don’t mean to be so—”

“Insistent?” Kougami raised a brow, and now his eyes opened enough for her to see the glint in them. “Dominant?”

“I just needed you to believe me.”

Kougami sobered up, but it was a softer kind of solemn. “I think I can safely say that you convinced me, Inspector.”

“I’m healed,” Akane said, affirming it verbally. “I’m here. And so are you. That’s what matters to me right now.”

Kougami tilted his head, mussing his hair further against the pillow. Akane readied herself to respond to any new questions about her health, her sanity, her duty, any new version of the walls he erected with such stunning speed to hold her at bay. But when he reached for her, with hands still half-trembling, it was only to pull her down to him. And when she lay down on his chest, her slickness matching his, and let out a sigh of relief, she felt him finally, finally relax as he put his head into her neck and closed his eyes.


	16. Hallowed Ground

_More for you because I LOVE you all too much. Seriously, I can’t even say how much your reviews have meant to me. This has become such a large story precisely because of all of you. I originally intended just a few set-up chapters to get Kou and Akane together. But now we have a for-real plot, OCs, and a whole thematic arc. So, despite having an actual novel and several scripts to work on, I say, onward and upward!_

_Remember to keep feeding the writer with reviews and comments, or, if you’re really brave (RE: generous) with actual coins by buying my novels (“Altered,” “Shattered,” and “Evolved” info on my profile) which you might especially like if you enjoy other series like “Firefly” and “Zankyou no Terror.” Welp, that’s enough from me. Here. We. Go!_

**Hallowed Ground**

Falling through water…but how?

_Was_ she falling? She felt borne up somehow. And it was so familiar. That rise in her stomach, that feeling of weighted weightlessness. It didn’t come from her – it was a sensation in her chest, a burning down her legs, a reaching out. There. That was the source. The touch of his hands, firm, desperate, needing. Everything she had wanted for years of separation, now undone. She leaned back her head and laughed, took in water like it was air, and didn’t drown.

She didn’t drown because his mouth was on hers. He fed her his air, and drank in hers freely. Of course he did. Everything had, everything she was, was also of him. They were making each other anew, as they always had. They had always meant to arrive here. Of course. Of course they could not be separated. Fate didn’t draw its chosen together for them only to part.

She arched into him, aching and demanding. He pressed back, heavy and perfect. Her hands were going around him again when he resisted. She let out a cry that sounded muted, like bubbles in water. She got no answer. Reaching for him again, she felt herself pushed upward, out of the dim murk. Searching, she stumbled, blindingly, into harsh light.

Akane woke up alone.

~

When Saiga Jogi deemed it safe (that is, conspicuously hushed) he ventured on soft sandals into his house. His caffeine addiction guided him through the mere light of false dawn to where he kept the pot. Touching it, he hissed – it was hot, and damnably empty.

_Huh._

He made his way out of the kitchen and into the parlor. The silhouette of the man in his window was lit mostly by the small tray of still burning cigarette butts. Saiga had many skills – an ability to approach a predator undetected was not one of them. Plus, at such an early hour, he simply couldn’t be bothered. “Kougami.”

“Professor.”

“I wish you would stop calling me that.”

“Sorry.”

“Any coffee left?”

“No, I…”

“I see.”

“Sorry.”

“Wow. Two apologies from you in one day. How unusual.”

Kougami remained facing out the window. Saiga could just make out the haze of smoke his former student so courteously blew out of the house. “I can make another pot.”

“It’s fine.” Saiga knew he was a bad man when he wasn’t able to resist. “Long night?”

Kougami’s back tensed as he flinched. “You heard…?”

Hearing the almost pitiful note of hope at the end of Kougami’s question, Saiga felt like a bad man. “Sorry. That was crass of me.”

“No, it’s not you – it’s – I’m—”

“If you apologize again, Shinya, I _will_ take issue. Something tells me you’ve been doing it overmuch lately.”

_That_ earned him a chuckle, at least. “Sensei, you don’t know the half of it.”

“If that were true, I would have spent a good, long, tedious night’s rest in my own bed.”

Saiga would admit it – he rather enjoyed the sheepish way his most promising mentee scuffed the floor with his combat boots. “I’m—we’re…”

“No apologies, remember. At least, not to me.” Saiga folded his arms, and was grateful Kougami couldn’t see his grin. It would seem eminently unprofessional. “Unless my skills have completely gone lax in my relaxing solitude, I would venture to guess that the two of you had already had such a fight. Moreover, I would even postulate that said previous eve’s activities were _her_ answer to your excessive self-abjnegation.”

Kougami took longer than he normally would to answer Saiga’s overly wordy summation. “Yeah. She’s making a lesson of it.”

“You know it’s the rare man who complains.”

Kougami fisted his cigarette, burning his hand. “She was supposed to have better. Better than...” He winced as the burning tip bored a smoking hole in his palm.

Saiga leaned forward, feeling a strong, professorial urge to take the tray out of Kougami’s reach. “She made the choice she wanted. Surely it didn’t really come as a surprise. Is it so...unwelcome for you?”

Kougami finally looked at Saiga full on, and the professor felt an swell of pity. The younger man looked wrecked. Stripped of all bravado and bare of even an icy stare, he for once looked years younger than his age. “C’mon, professor. Don’t keep talking around the issue.” He tightened his fists, until the smoke died out in his right. “All the answers you want are here for the taking. Hell, you probably understand what’s happening better’n me.”

Saiga didn’t like the way the other man lingered on the first word in that last sentence. “Believe it or not, I meant to give you both space. I don’t mean to pry.”

“Yeah?” Kougami nearly spat the word, with vehemence that made Saiga take a step back. “Well, you’re the first so far, professor. Congrats.”

Saiga freed up one arm so he could readjust his glasses. If he were honest – and he was, to a fault and often to his detriment – Kougami even scared him at the moment. The fury building in the younger, bulkier man was dangerously near the surface. “I don’t suppose this is anything you want to talk about.”

“Talking won’t fix what’s been done.”

“It might prevent further problems.”

“The time for that is past and gone. I’m in – we’re in too deep now.” Kougami seized, a momentary expression of hate-filled agony wrenching its way down his body. “I threw that chance away.”

Saiga made certain to lower his arms slowly, as one might when faced with a rabid canine. “Shinya. When exactly did you decide you were undeserving of any happiness?”

“You don’t understand! She—” Kougami looked down, eyes breaking away from Saiga’s in shame. He spoke now to the floor, and through grit teeth. “I failed her. I betrayed her – more than once. I’m putting her in danger, _damn it_ , I am, and I should be able to stop it.”

“Should be able to stop caring for her?”

Kougami stilled completely at that, and Saiga was torn between pity, and a thrumming, instinctive desire to run. “Feeling and acting can be kept separate. Our free will is the power of free won’t – wasn’t that the key point of your lecture on the neurobiology of morality? That we can’t help but think and feel, but we _can_ control what we _do_ with those thoughts and emotions? The ability to keep from acting on our every desire is what separates us from animals.”

“We’re still animals, Shinya, even with that little bit of evolution.”

“Yeah.” Kougami opened his fist to look at the burn imprinted on his palm. “Kinda got that memo.”

Saiga took a careful step forward; the younger man tensed, but didn’t look up. “This particular…situation. It doesn’t make you less human. Indeed, many would argue it is the very thing that humanizes us best.”

“I’m not the best, Saiga-san. Far from it.”

“I would beg to differ. So would she.”

“ _She_ deserves better. She deserves the best there is. At the very least, not me.”

“She wants you. Are you going to insult her choice by rejecting her?”

Kougami laughed aloud, throwing his head back and tossing his long, uncut hair. It was a wild, unrestrained sound, one that would set birds to flight. “I can’t – can't you tell? I'm incapable of it. Even when— even when I should, to protect – even when some sense of self-preservation should kick in…I knew I was selfish. I just never thought I could be this weak.”

Saiga summoned up what bravery was his, and put a hand on Kougami’s shoulder. The younger man jerked, like a skittish horse, but Saiga held firm. “Of all the many things you may be, Kougami Shinya, of all the faults you possess, neither selfishness nor weakness are among them. And you do all of us a disservice to think of yourself that way. We, who count you as our friend, are not in the habit of selecting weak or selfish compatriots. I would suggest you begin training yourself to see through our eyes, if your own perceptions are so faulty.”

Kougami’s rose again to meet his, the dull color of steel or the sea after a squall. “That an assignment?”

“No. I told you, I’m retired. And you’ve long since graduated, Shinya. Take it as man-to-man advice. Use it or discard it as you choose. But choose quickly—” Saiga grinned – “because your absence has been noted.”

Kougami’s eyes widened at that, and Saiga saw a bit of the blue return to them. When the younger man whirled around to stare at Akane, Saiga covertly made his exit.

“You left.”

Kougami took in her state of dress; no shoes, no socks, _his_ shirt. Hair rumpled. Eyes wide, newly awoken. “I wasn’t leaving. Just couldn’t sleep anymore.”

He held his ground when she walked towards him, and then wondered at that bit of mental phrasing. She stopped, leaving enough space between them for the rising sun to cut a hole of light in the floor, through the window. When Akane didn’t volunteer anything further, Kougami read her silence with a huffed laugh. “Don’t believe me, huh?”

Akane’s pale cheeks flushed. “I—”

“No. It’s okay. I’ve given you plenty of reasons to doubt me.”

He was looking down, studying the emerging light patterns on the floor, when she walked up and closed their gap. “I don’t doubt you. I think I have more faith in you than in anything else.”

“You shouldn’t.” He looked up sharply, offended on her behalf. “You need to cling to what you believe in. You’re the one who’s guided us – all of us – all this time. I told you—”

“That when next we met, I’d be in a position to judge you,” Akane finished, with a smile he had no defense against. “I did – remember? I just didn’t make the call you thought I would.”

“Sure you made the right one?”

“I don’t care.”

Kougami started, alarmed and affronted, but Akane met his gaze without flinching. “I told you. I’m not going to apologize for this. I wanted it. I acted on it—”

“ _I_ did. Remember?” Kougami could hear how desperate his insistence was. “You were going to leave, and I—”

“Did exactly what I wanted you to. Did you think I would reject you? Was that what you were hoping for?” Akane leveled him with her gaze, despite having to raise her chin to meet his eyes. “I won’t be put on a pedestal, Shinya. I’m not better than you.”

“You _are_. Better than I could ever hope to be. You’re the best woman I’ve ever met, the only—” He squeezed his eyes shut, forced himself to break off. “I shouldn’t have any right to touch you. That’s what I think about, every time.”

He felt her hands on his chest, sliding up to his neck. He kept his eyes shut, but didn’t fight when she pulled him downwards, enough for her to speak low into his ear. “I know,” she confided, warm against his chin and his cheek. “But you’re wrong.”

When her breath traveled to the side, over his lips, he took her mouth. Intentionally, and with full presence of mind. When she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he picked her up easily and carried her to the window sill. When he set her down and broke apart for air, his panting wasn’t from the effort. “ _Akane_ ,” he murmured, heavily, into her shoulders.

“What?” she answered, already half-way to breathless.

Kougami smiled, letting her feel it against her skin. “Nothing. I just wanted to say it.”

Akane opened her eyes to meet his, just as he dove down for another kiss. He tasted of coffee and nicotine, he was certain. But no longer of guilt.

~

Saiga was more than ready for bed when night fell. Without caffeine, the effects of sleep deprivation from the previous nocturnal stake-out were fast catching up to him. So he could be forgiven, he told himself, for almost missing the tiny figure on his couch as he was moving through his living room.

_Well, now. This is a turn._

Akane sat in wait, hands folded in her lap. Saiga glanced around the room’s expanse, but detected no hint of the not-so-lone wolf.

He sat down across from her, and was immediately reminded of the countless interrogations he’d been commissioned to do for the MWPSB over the years. “Akane,” he murmured. “Or, is it Inspector Tsunemori I am to speak with now?”

Saiga could sense the rigidity in her body. But when she raised her head, her bangs still covered her eyes. _Clever_ _girl_. “Saiga-san. I am here to inform you that my presence in your home means that a sub-corium tracker has alerted the MWPSB to this location. Within the next 24 hours, you may expect officials from the bureau to arrive at your home.”

Saiga shivered bodily. This, he’d had no inclination of. “Really now.”

“Yes. Furthermore, when they arrive, I will no longer be present. This will _not_ place you in any danger of violating the terms of your out-placement agreement. You need only to mention that I _was_ at your place of residence, nothing more. The detectives from the MWPSB will be satisfied with that.”

“Will they now. How comforting. Might I inquire as to how long this particular motion has been in play? Or is it better for me not to know?”

Akane looked up then, her bangs parting enough for Saiga to catch her eyes. It was deliberate on her part. _Tsunemori Akane, I may have misjudged you. I would never have guessed you to be capable of such calculation_. “It is better for you not to know. Saiga-sensei.”

_I believe you fully, Ms. Tsunemori_. “And does he know?”

Akane paused. For a very long time. “No.”

Saiga took in a small, sharp, soft breath. _Interesting._


	17. Only See

**Only See**

 

“MWPSB. Open up.”

“Ah, Inspectors. How unexpected.”

Saiga stepped aside, allowing the three members of the Public Safety Bureau into his foyer. As soon as the first one was within, she turned on him with a frown to correct his mistake. “Inspector. These who are Enforcers.”

“Ah. Yes. My apologies, Inspector Shimotsuki. How careless of me.”

The pint-sized detective sniffed, and Saiga felt momentarily proud for suppressing his own disdain. “Well, then – Inspector, Enforcers. How may I be of assistance?”

“We have a warrant to search the premises.” Shimotsuki unfurled the holographic warrant, and Saiga attempted not to gag at the unwelcomed tech. He leaned forward, his steaming mug of morning coffee in hand, to peer at the gleaming document. “Hmm…indeed. That does appear to give you the right to search my home.”

“We have the right regardless,” Shimotsuki informed him bluntly. “Despite Inspector Tsunemori’s arrangement, you remain a latent criminal.”

“How clumsy of me to forget.”

Shimotsuki’s wrinkled nose showed how little she appreciated his over-dry sarcasm. “And what, if I may ask, do you hope to find in these…quarters allotted me?”

“That,” Mika said with a relish that light up her whole pallid face, “is classified.”

Saiga bowed his head. It was cheating, of course, to use it to hide his grin. But he would be lenient with himself, considering the circumstances. “Of course. Well, if I may be of any help…”

Shimotsuki was already moving away, finished with him. Saiga made no protest; now he could turn his attention to the two Enforcers.

Ginoza Nobuchika and Kunizuka Yayoi were naturally reticent types on the best of days. Saiga couldn’t imagine this counted. “I don’t suppose I’m allowed to offer you both drinks – probably some rule against latent criminals exchanging caffeine or other suspect liquids.”

The long-haired former Inspector’s mouth twitched upright, with a touch of the soft, wry humor he’d gained in his demotion. “No doubt. And I suppose I should remind you, one latent to another, that lying to an Inspector or concealing relevant information on a case carries a penalty even if your Hue doesn’t cloud.”

“Consider me reminded,” Saiga replied, though he lifted his coffee mug to conceal a warmer smile than he’d spent on Shimotsuki. He winced as pillbugs slid around his living room, the little techno-sects invading every room and exploring each crevice. “It might help if I knew what you thought I was concealing.”

He marked the darted looks both Enforcers shot towards their petite Inspector, who was roving about his kitchen, some freshly-minted device in her hands Saiga didn’t care to examine. The two raven-haired detectives shared a moment of silent communication, before Yayoi spoke. “What,” she said softly, significantly, and carefully, “isn’t really the right word.”

_Ah,_ Saiga judged, meeting their eyes in wordless answer. _So – latent criminals or not, protocol or not, they know._

“Saiga.” Shimotsuki pitched her voice lower to give it authority, though the note of petulance still sounded beneath it. “We received an alert that an…unspecified presence was located on the premises recently. Within the last few hours.”

Saiga waited a moment to answer, and watched the blush of fury darken the tiny Inspector’s pale cheeks. “That is quite vague. I’m not sure what information I can provide, given such broad outlines.”

“Have you been hiding anyone here?”

At the outright accusation his back stiffened. Saiga glanced at the two Enforcers to gauge the level of threat implied. A subtle nod from Ginoza told him to proceed. “No. As you can see, I harbor no fugitives.”

_Strange – both Enforcers are aware that Akane set off the alert. But not the Inspector._ Saiga bit his lip to keep in the grim twist of his mouth. Of course it didn’t surprise him that Akane would not choose to confide in her junior partner. But that the Sibyl System would allow Shimotsuki to remain in the dark and yet permit the Enforcers to know…

“And you’ve noticed nothing out of the ordinary? No disturbances of any kind?”

Saiga blinked. “Well, I did have trouble sleeping the other night – I thought I heard howling, you see. Something akin to wolves.”

Mika rolled her eyes fully at that. “I see your fabled expertise is limited to your own field, professor. For your information, wolves have been extinct in Japan for centuries.”

“Ah. It must have been the wind, and my old mind overactive in my solitude, then.”

It was a gambit; a roll of the dice, not a move Saiga would normally have allowed himself. But as Shimotsuki turned on her heel to head towards the door, summoning back the pillbugs, he shot a look at both Enforcers.

Kunizuka met his gaze for but a moment, before ducking beneath her bangs, but her piercing blue eyes had been clear, and somehow, unsurprised.

Ginoza had taken longer. Saiga had watched the shy, uncomfortable young man grow into a bitter Inspector, and then, at last, to an Enforcer – haunted, yes, damaged, certainly, his cyborg arm attested to that, but possessed of a new quiet strength. Ginoza Nobuchika was no fool.

And yet it took longer for the revelation to blossom visibly on his face. Saiga traced the seeds of the understanding, through the hesitation, and then, chillingly, to something like fury. How odd. Saiga had never found the extra muscle mass and powerful new robotic arm the Enforcer sported to be particularly intimidating. And yet, the cold anger that sharpened the already defined cheekbones and froze the sea green eyes made Saiga set his back, just as Kougami’s barely contained intensity had.

“Please remain on alert for any new developments,” the Enforcer said in a clipped tone Saiga couldn’t help but bristle at. “You will be contacted again if we need you.”

With that, Ginoza whirled around, long black coat nearly flicking Saiga’s glasses from his head. He stalked out, Yayoi in tow. As soon as the door slammed shut, Saiga reached out for the table. He grasped it in time, but lost his grip on his coffee mug. He winced as it shattered, splattering the hot dregs on his bare ankles.

_So it begins._

What, exactly, _was_ beginning, he was modest enough to admit he didn’t know. Akane had set something into motion, something which included the Sibyl System, and Kougami. Her feelings for him were not in doubt – but whether they helped or hindered her plans, the old retired professor didn’t dare to speculate. He had done enough, perhaps more than he should, in sending his thinly veiled code to the two Enforcers. What they chose to do with that knowledge was now out of his hands.

For better or worse, his message had been received.

~

“What now?”

Akane started, allowing Kougami to catch up with her. Only then did she realize how rapid her pace had been, and how aimless.

“Where are we headed?” he asked, echoing her own silent query. “Akane?”

Something about how he said it made her turn. She wasn’t sure if she’d intended to lie, but she spoke before she could decide. “I don’t know.”

Kougami quirked a quizzical brow. His lips didn’t quite move, but Akane could sense the smile underneath. “Ah. Then we’re just taking a scenic walk, are we?”

Akane flushed, and Kougami let free his full grin. “No?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“I do that.”

“Not recently.”

“No,” he conceded. “It never seemed the time.”

“But now is?”

“Well—” Kougami hoisted the pack Saiga had allowed them to fill with non-perishable food higher on his shoulder, treating the nearly sixty-pound thing as if it were weightless “—if we have no specific direction, and we’re not running to or away from anyone, then yes. That would be my judgement.”

He said it solemnly, but it was only another layer of his gentle mockery. “That is, Miss Tsunemori, unless you wish to make a different call.”

“I’m—” _Flustered_ , Akane realized. “You don’t think we need a plan?”

“Do you have one?”

_Yes_ , she thought, _and no._ _I do, and I should. I did, and I don’t want to anymore. You’ve complicated things, Kougami Shinya. Even when I factored you into my plans from the beginning_. “Not at present. But I would have thought you did.”

“I _had_ a plan. Yes.”

“And now?”

It was the expression in his eyes that took her breath away, even before his lips touched hers. The hunger she’d grown used to seeing – though it never failed to send a shot of electricity like a Dominator hit up her spine. But it was the glint, that touch of genuine _amusement_ , of _joy_ , that was new enough to shock her. One could almost call it happiness, if one had the air to form the words. As per Shinya’s ravenous insistence, though, she currently did not.

She cast her pack on the ground with his. He was right, she thought, as she let him bear her down onto the dry grass. If they had no plans and nowhere to run, then they could let them lie.


	18. The Fabric of Your Flesh

**The Fabric of Your Flesh**

The sun was high over head, and yet they did not move. Akane felt the rays on her skin like a second caress as Kougami's hands continued their work. He lay beneath her, as bare as she. His hips urged hers onward, his legs up behind her back, while he slid one hand up into her short hair. The other was busy below.

"Kougami—"

"Shinya."

His grip on her hair was firm, just enough to tilt her head back, but otherwise his pace was unhurried, even lazy. It meant that her peak came upon her without warning."  
  
“ _Shinya_!”

It was deeper and more powerful than ever before, and her entire body went viciously, deliciously hot under the bright noonday sky. Her ears rang, so that she could only dimly hear Kougami cry out his own release below.

There was silence around them in the forest as she came down, still shivering with too much sensation. When she could focus enough to see, Kougami had one hand behind his head, and was staring at her intently.

"What?" Akane flushed. "What is it?"  
  
“It’s just—” His lips quirked up “—never expected to see you like this…in the light.”

Akane flushed a deeper red, but when she raised her hands to cover herself, Kougami caught them. “Don’t. Please.”

She relaxed as best she could under his gaze, though she was sure her cheeks still burned. His calloused hands were gentle as they traced down her collarbone to her chest, from her chest to her stomach. His journey halted and his palms went flat when they touched one of her scars. 

"I'm alright, Shinya," she said in response to the darkening of his expression.

"I know." He was still staring at his hands covering her raised skin. "And I'm sorry. I should have known it before, should have remembered. You're stronger than him. You're stronger than me. I think you're stronger than any of us."

"Don't give me too much credit, Kougami-san. It might go to my head."

He finally looked up to grin back at her. "Never you, Inspector."

He held out his hand and when she took it he pulled her carefully down with him. She marveled at how easily she fit against him, for having only twice before been able to rest in this position. Kougami was silent for a long moment then, and Akane occupied herself tracing spirals on his bare chest. When he finally spoke again, she felt the warm rumble of it against her skin like an aftershock. "There's a ship waiting in Tsuruga port."  
“I’m alright, Shinya,” she said in response to the darkening of his expression.

Akane was still tracing an inward churning circle around his nipple when the words penetrated. “Wait. What?”

His tone was casual, perfunctory, but Akane could feel the tension in his upper body, see it in his jaw-line. “It was how the Runners got here – a small dingy, the kind that would only have a fifty-percent or so chance of even making the crossing. It was too risky of a move for Sibyl to calculate anyone daring it. That’s how it slipped past them.” He breathed out, as if he had taken a drag from a cigarette, though they had none. “It’s still there now.”

 “Are you asking me to leave with you?”

“To the point as always. Refreshing. I’ve missed that.”

“Kougami.”

“Yes.”

Akane was stunned by the swift answer. Kougami didn’t turn away either – he watched her with a perfectly level gaze.

“You can’t. You can’t mean that.”

His left brow went up. “No?”

“You can’t be serious. You wouldn’t joke about something like that.”

“Those are two profoundly contradictory statements.”

“Kougami!”

“Akane.”

She shivered, with something that wasn’t rage. “Don’t – that isn’t you.”

“Well, you certainly have me confused,” Kougami commented amicably. “Which is it? Am I joking or serious?”

“I don’t know, I—” Akane closed her eyes for a second, trying to control her heart, which now raced out of pace with his. “Are you truly asking me to leave with you? After everything we’ve done – you’ve done – we’ve both done? To leave the fight unfinished?”

Now he did look away, but only to the side, just slightly. “And if I said it was already done?”

Akane frowned, rapidly analyzing the situation. “So that’s it. You think things are already so far gone that the Runners will bring the System down without you. The Artifact…you’ve already given it to them.”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And?”

“And?” Akane fisted her hands against his chest. “And you’re fine with letting the System fall without you? After all the time and effort you’ve spent getting to this point – after all you’ve sacrificed – working with the Runners, fighting to return – after everything this fight has cost, you’re willing to abandon it at the final point?”

“You make it sound like I have commitment issues.”

Kougami’s voice was light, the comment a joke, but his body again betrayed him. It had tightened and tensed with her every word, as if desperate to protect itself. Akane made her own body relax, and, though she had intended it, was shocked to feel his do the same. “You’re asking me to believe that the fundamental driving reason behind all you’ve done all this time…is just gone.”

His eyes opened more fully, and Akane realized he had been wincing them closed. “I thought we had established that my motivations were, at the least, problematic…you’re angry.” He didn’t have to make it a question. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

Akane couldn’t help the way his soft, nearly broken baritone affected her, and her own voice softened in return. “Is that why you’re doing it? For me?”

Kougami looked to the left as he reached out for his pants. He fished in his pockets for his cigarettes, smiling ironically when he remembered he had none. “What – a man isn’t allowed to reevaluate his priorities?”

Akane pulled away as he collected the rest of his clothes. The grass was hard and dry against her slick, cool skin. “And your priority now is getting out?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He pulled on his pants as Akane digested his words. “You told me once you became a detective to protect people. You led the charge against SEUn and Chairman Han to help give those already fighting a fighting chance. You must have joined the Runners for the same reason – the ideal of protecting – no, _saving_ – the many.  Now you’re saying that you’ve shifted your focus down to one.”

“If you’re implying that I’m selfish…” Kougami pulled his shirt over his head, rustling his dog tags. “…then you’re right; I am. I told you as much before.”

“You did.” Akane acknowledged it as she also began to dress, slipping the ragged shirt carefully on to avoid her bandages. “But I didn’t buy it then, and I won’t now.” She stood up as she pulled on her pants, looking at him without shaming or feeling shamed. “You put others before yourself, always. That hasn’t changed.”

Kougami watched her as she slid on her pants, but looked down and spoke to his boots as he tied them. “But you have. Somehow you manage to evolve, when all the rest of us fall into a holding pattern. Maybe that’s why you were always so clear – you could move on, remaining yourself, when the rest of us couldn’t let go.”

“I didn’t.”

Kougami waited until he had finished to look up at her. Standing, the sun was just behind her head, obscuring her features. “I told you – I’m not better than you. I’m not better than any of you. I didn’t remain pure. My Hue might not have clouded, but neither did Makishima’s. I only got through it all because I had everyone else. That’s what Sibyl doesn’t understand. It spends so much time dividing and dissecting us, trying to find the greatest good for the greatest number, but only by seeing us _as_ numbers; scores on aptitude tests, crime coefficients. We’re a scale to be balanced – and that part I understand. My mind can comprehend what Sibyl wants, and I can even see the purpose in it. But…we’re more than the sum of our minds. Makishima talked about seeing our souls, but I think he just wanted to believe he had the ability to touch others. He was more like the System he tried to fight than he knew. Neither could feel true emotion tied to another human being. People were playthings to them. They were born detached, so they made a virtue of it. But it was all a way of hiding their fatal flaw. Holding back from others – keeping them at bay – it deprives you of the connections that make morality, any kind of morality, meaningful. If you don’t care for the people around you, it doesn’t matter what your principles are; eventually, they’ll grow stale, and then malignant. We need all the mess and pain of truly caring, otherwise nothing we do matters. The System values a clean mind, but there’s no value in a pure heart. That’s – that’s what Madhuri meant, I think. Once you care, truly care, about another person, you’re willing to do illogical, even immoral things to protect them. But sacrifice only has meaning if you honor the emotion behind it – the connection. It’s what sets us apart from Makishima, and the System. It’s what makes us human.”

Akane finished softly, just as the sun peaked over her head. As it came down, it filtered gently around her face, illuminating both the sleeker angles of the cheekbones she’d gained in the time since he’d left, and the gentle curve of her lips, her round, still hopeful eyes. Not for the first time, Kougami felt something akin to awe as he stared at the woman who would always be his superior.

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that she only proved by her words, by her continued existence as she was, that he was right, and she was more than all of them combined. But reverence (it was reverence, as potent as that any deity could inspire) stayed his tongue. When he rose to his feet to meet her, she still felt out of reach. “We should keep moving.”

He let the silence stretch out between them as they walked, until the very air around them complimented their stillness, free of birdsong, or even the sounds of insects. Kougami was frowning at the grey, impending cloud-line when she finally breached the space between them.

 “If I said yes—”

Kougami stopped, turning to her.

“If I said yes,” she said carefully. “Which way would we go?”

His smile, Akane realized, would never stop taking her breath away. Even when it faded, she was still high off the buzz from seeing his cool eyes be so beautifully blue. “Akane, get down!”

She didn’t, and the burning, ripping sensation in her lower hip registered only after she saw the horrified look on Kougami’s face. “Akane!”

“Ah – so that’s her name.”

Akane fell into Kougami’s arms as Sato’s voice sounded behind her. He supported her with one hand, while the other went to his hip for the gun. When he raised it, his arm brushing her ear, she heard Sato tsk.

“Really, Kougami? Consider your situation. You are a formidable man, but even you cannot outmatch us all.”

“You willing to bet on it?” Kougami leveled the gun higher; Akane felt him shift. “I’m feeling confident I could take you out – I’m betting that would have an effect on the status quo here.”

“Ah, but at what cost?” Sato posed. “My men here might feel compelled to avenge me. What good would killing me do, if it takes the life of the woman in your arms?”

“Your men? So Yanin’s gone then. Interesting.” Kougami kept his gun trained on Sato, but gripped Akane’s waist tighter as she began to sag. Her eyes watering, she could just make out the rustling in the trees before her, as it took on human form. _They surrounded us_ , she thought, calmly, through her rapidly cresting state of shock. _And we didn’t even suspect._ Her head lolled, falling into Kougami’s shoulder. _We were never getting out…of course, of course we were never getting out…_

“…think I’ll show you at gunpoint?” Kougami’s voice was fading, and that was a bad sign. He gently maneuvered Akane under him so that he could shield her body with his side. “You really want to drive me into one corner and then follow me into a darker one?”

“You betrayed us, you bastard!” Park’s scream was loud enough to cut through Akane’s muddled brain as she shivered with oncoming numbness. “We trusted you! We followed you, and you threw us aside for that whore! You just wanted to get back in with the System! You used us!”

“You’re still alive, Park?” Kougami scoffed, but Akane could feel his anxiety in the arm he held against her neck, checking for her pulse. His hand was dry, which meant her skin must be clammy. “That’s unfortunate. I might have to remedy that.”

“You can try, you son of a bitch!” Park screamed, and Akane flinched. That made Kougami look down, just a split second of fear, but the broken mask was enough for Sato. He tsked again. “Come now, Shinya. The time for bravado is over,” the Sunset Runner’s leader intoned. “You’re going to take us to the access point, to the very heart of this monster. One way or another.”

“Not willingly,” Kougami shot back, finally tearing his hand away from Akane to put both on his gun.

“Ah. So it’s the other.”

Kougami fired the first shot, a moment before the other man finished speaking. The crack of it made Akane jerk, and the return bullet made Kougami dive down and roll. He dragged her along with him, coming up onto his knee in front of her to fire again and again.

Akane could hear the screams beneath the piercing sound of the bullets, and they tore at her worse than the searing pain in her hip. Kougami shouted something above her, but she couldn’t make out the words. Her eyes teared up as they lolled, and all she could see were dark moving shapes, running and falling, falling like Madhuri had, like Kagari had, like Yuki had, falling to monsters she had thought herself fit to fight. Akane moaned, as her dead piled up around her.

“…’spector…stop!”

 _No, please_ , she thought, unable to whimper when a fresh chorus was added in, bringing with it hazy green-blue light that burned her corneas and forced her to cling to consciousness and watch. The new haze of voices was accompanied by an electric sound Akane had come to know like the feel of its source weapon in her hand. Her slowing heart lifted, as amid the gunfire and its modern counterpart, she distinguished one loud male voice. “This is the MWPSB! Put down your weapons and surrender!”

Akane gasped, a forced intake of breath from a body desperate for air. She vaguely sensed the male shape above her, the one that wasn’t Kougami. Something like a bullet striking metal resounded to her left, and then she heard fragments, snippets, of what he was saying. “In’…spector…Inspector…Tsunemori...’kane! Akane!”

Akane couldn’t soothe him – her tongue hung weighted and useless in her mouth. She couldn’t hear if the others surrendered, but she did, to the blackness and the roaring in her ears.


	19. Apart

_My apologize so hard for make long time of no update, me! Had much script to finish, lotsa writing, I._

_But looky here! U can haz new update! Leave many nice reviews, yes?_

_Love you ALL!_

**Apart**

 

“Let’s begin with what we know.”

The man who sat across from Ginoza, arms and ankles chained to the chair, did not offer a response.

"Male, 5’6, 165 pounds, eye color brown, original home area formerly known as Burma. Original name, not known. Currently called by the pseudonym Sato, and recognized leader of the Sunset Runners, a terrorist organization. Held responsible for the New Siam Hospital fire, the Niar Train massacre, and the coup ousting the New Mongolian Republic. Illegally entered Japan on September the 4th. Crime coefficient, 299.”

Sato, ever so briefly, smiled.

~

“Male, 5’5, 155 pounds, eye color light brown, original name, Park Shin-yang. Original home, the incorporated provinces of South Korea—”

“We’re not a province, bitch!” Park spat, straining against the bonds that held him to the chair. “Just because they hold a gun to our heads doesn’t mean we’re beaten. We’re not subservient, boot-licking drones, like you zombies.”

“—currently wanted for arson, destruction of government property,” Yayoi continued to list dryly, as if the outburst had not occurred. “Suspected of murder. Illegally entered Japan with the Sunset Runners on September the 4th. Crime coefficient, 302.”

“What the hell is a coefficient?” Park snapped. “What the hell is that number? I’m not one of your numbers! I’m not one of you!”

~

“Male, 5’11”, 145 pounds, eye color grey-blue. Name, Kougami Shinya. Original home, Japan. Original occupation, Inspector, later Enforcer, with the MWPSB. Current occupation; mercenary, terrorist. Known to have worked with the anti-SEUn forces to destabilize the government of Chairman Han. Now affiliated with the Sunset Runners, whom he helped illegally enter Japan. Wanted for terrorism, crimes against the state, and murder.”

“Crime coefficient.”

“What?” Shimotsuki started. She blinked, staring at the man across from her. Kougami looked to the side, giving her nothing but his jawline as he answered. “You’re supposed to tell me my crime coefficient.”

“Why?” Mika leapt to ask. “Do you want to know? Do you think it’s lower than before you fled from our justice? Higher?”

The tiny Inspector stared at the former Inspector, former Enforcer, current criminal as if she could bore into his head like a human Memory Scoop. When the seconds ticked by without being filled, she shifted in her own chair, stretching her unbound limbs. She glared at him, aiming to impose. “It would be in your own best interest to answer me verbally. You should know that if we have to take the information by force, it won’t leave you unscathed.”

Kougami’s expression did not alter. It wasn’t until Shimotsuki blinked that he spoke. “You’re new at this.”

She bristled at the non-question. “It’s no use trying to exert authority here. You no longer possess any, _Former Enforcer_. You are out of cards to play.”

Just the edge of Kougami’s lips perked up, but it was unmistakably a smile. “If that were true, current Inspector, I’d already be dead.”

~

“So that’s him?”

Enforcer Hinawaka arched his neck to look around at all the screens filling the Analyst’s workroom. His mop of red hair fell back, exposing more of his wan, eager face. It struck Karanomori that she had never seen the chronically depressed hacker’s eyes that fully opened. “Yes. I’m surprised, honestly. All that talk about his criminal prowess…I was hoping for a more impressive man. Handsomer, uglier, more tattoos…for the founder of the Runners, he looks pretty subdued next to Gino.”

“What? No.” Hinakawa shook his head, his red mane bobbing almost comically. “The other one.”

“The kid?” Karanomori squinted at the interrogation room shown on the middle screen, then smirked. “Oh, he’s all bluster. Yayoi will have him bent over the desk in no time.” She blew out a smoke ring. “Metaphorically speaking.”

“No. I meant – the one that…Onee-chan…the one she…the one you all knew.”

Karanomori stilled, lowering her ever-present cigarette. “Kougami, you mean.”

“Yes. Him.” Hinakawa blinked over at her, his hair now flopping to conceal one eye. “You all described him so much, but…he looks different than I imagined.”

Karanomori looked again at her former colleague. Kougami lounged back in his chair, physically casual despite his bound hands. His hair was longer. His muscular body, more developed even than it had been since the days when he would beat combat robots to shreds, showed bruising and scarring beneath his green jacket. She squinted, and bit the tip of her tongue, trying to focus in on his grey eyes. Usually so direct, they were staring just behind Inspector Shimotsuki’s head, averted from her. Try as she might, the Analyst was unable to get a clearer view of his expression.

“Yes,” Shion murmured. “I imagine he is.”

~

Mika forced herself not to glance at the time on her wrist holo. She had tried the technique of silence, but it appeared that Kougami Shinya was just as familiar with it as she. Mika set her shoulders and switched tactics. “I don’t think you fathom how dire the situation is for you, terrorist.”

Mika held for a pause, and then the terrorist in question bit back. “Cute. Someone tell you threats are more intimidating if you toss in antiquated word-play? Or are you counting on the looming promise of the mind scoop to do your job for you?”

Mika’s upper lip curled. “I don’t need your folksy advice on how to conduct my investigation. I’m not one of your former associates. I have no illicit emotional ties to trip me up here. To me, you’re nothing but a rabid hound that slipped its leash. Now you’re back in the kennel, and no amount of stale insider knowledge or trite philosophical deconstructions of our society are going to keep me from doing my duty.”

Kougami’s expression did not alter, and Mika found herself watching him for movement like he was a glitching holo. “Well?” she snapped after what she was sure was a full minute. “No snappy rejoinder? No pearls of wisdom gleaned from rogue living to sway me from my course?”

Kougami continued to look past her, as coolly disinterested as ever. “You didn’t want folksy sayings, interrogating Inspector. So I’ll spare you the one about throwing pearls.”

“If you like I’m going to sit here while you sling your little barbs and do nothing, you really are insa—”

Kougami’s eyes finally snapped into focus as the door unsealed. Mika ground her teeth in annoyance, delaying turning around until the man was directly behind her. “Enforcer. I don’t remember telling you to leave your post.”

“Chief’s orders,” Ginoza said, with a clinical lack of inflection. “We’re to rotate.”

“Oh? She thinks you’ll have better success with him than I will?” Mika practically snarled at the taller man. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying nothing, Inspector. Just following protocol.”

Mika huffed, remaining seated for an unnecessary sullen minute, before finally rising. “If the chief thinks you can deal with him, fine,” Mika warned, stretching her neck to look up at her Enforcer, “but if you allow your previous relationship to infect your judgement – if you soften your approach, if you try to protect him – _I_ won’t be forgiving, no matter what Kasei says.”

“I’ll bear it in mind, Inspector.”

Mika scowled, casting a last look at Kougami over her shoulder. The designated terrorist was not looking at her Enforcer, but his posture seemed more rigid. Shaking her head slightly, Mika stalked away from both men and out the sliding door.

It hissed shut behind her.

Ginoza pulled out the chair Mika had huffily shoved back in with his good, whole hand, and sat. For a minute he was as still as Kougami, forearms planted, fingers spread out on the firmly welded table top. Kougami also waited, his head turned to the left, gaze unfocused, back straight.

He was still waiting, position maintained as if he were as metallic as the room they were enclosed within, when Ginoza chose to stand. Kougami did not turn, made no attempt to track the other man’s movements. When Ginoza came up on his left side he was still studying the far wall. It wasn’t until the animatronic arm descended, grabbing hold of his shoulder and squeezing, that Kougami began to react, and by then it was too late, he was already being flung to the ground. Kougami’s back slammed the floor, winding him, and a second later the first punch landed, courtesy of Ginoza’s hard, human knuckles.

~

It took the fourth blow Ginoza landed to the nonresistant Kougami to shock Karanomori into action. She rushed to the controls for interrogation room 604 and quickly unsealed the door. “Hinakawa, call for the Inspector.”

The red-head remained frozen behind her, as the heavy, wet sound of metal colliding with flesh continued to issue out of the sound system.

“Enforcer Hinakawa!”

The hacker jolted, and then fumbled with shaking hands for the coms. “Ins—spector Shimotsuki. You – you are needed in—back in interrogation room 604—”

“Who is this?” Shimotsuki’s voice bristled with high-pitched annoyance over the system, a lighter note above the lower grunts of Ginoza’s exertion and Kougami’s muted, muffled, suppressed noises of pain. “Hound 4? I am no longer responsible for room 604.”

“Ye—yes, we know.” Hinakawa winced as Ginoza slammed his human fist into Kougami’s right side, drawing an almost animalistic grunt of pain from the former Division 1 member. “But-but—”

“You have no say over who is put in which room – wait. Did Enforcer Ginoza put you up to this? If this is some insubordination attempt, Hound, I will not be as understanding as your precious _onee-chan_. In fact, I—”

Karanomori grabbed the com from the stuttering Hinakawa. “Mika!” the Analyst snapped. “Stop trying to pull rank and get that damn door open! I know our lives mean nothing to you—” Karanomori shivered at the truth of it, and the venom that somehow seeped into speaking it aloud “—but if your hound kills the terrorist before he gives Kasei what she wants to know, I wouldn’t count on a promotion any time soon.”

There was a brief pause, where Hinakawa gulped loudly enough to be heard over the relentless hits Ginoza was still delivering to a still immobile Kougami. Then they heard a rush of breath that sounded like someone running, and the sound of buttons being pressed. There was a huff of shock and frustration. “Well, then open the door, Analyst!”

“What?” Karanomori blinked, and then rushed back to her controls. “Enter the code, it should open.”

“I am!” Mika’s voice had lost all trace of arrogance, and was now honest with fear. “It’s sealed!”

Karanomori’s body went cold, and her tar-filled lungs lacked breath. She tried an override, long elegant nails scraping the pad that was her key to all the rooms in the MWPSB. “Try now.”

Another grunt, another gasp of fury. “No! It won’t—”

Karanormoi backed away from her controls even as Mika could loudly be heard fighting to pull open the stubbornly sealed doors.  She raised her brown eyes to the screen for interrogation room 604. Ginoza’s back, so much more muscular than seemed right for the wispy, uncertain man she’d once known as an inspector, prevented her from seeing much of Kougami, no matter how she squinted. Only one thing was clear.

“He’s stopped.” Hinakawa swallowed, audible in the silence now punctuated only but Mika’s futile, whimpered attempts to pull apart the sealed doors. “Why did he stop?”

Karanomori held up a hand. Abandoning her eyes, she closed them to focus entirely upon her sense of hearing. Hinakawa followed suit, biting his lip as he leaned forward. Together, the two latent criminals ignored the angered demands of their Inspector, and listened.

~

“Bastard.”

It was the first word he’d spoken to his former partner, a pause in the barrage. He stood above Kougami’s bleeding form, and felt the itch to strike again even in his dead arm. “You know it. You know you are. You know why.”

Kougami looked up. New bruises were forming on top of old around his steel and ice eyes, and a trickle of blood from a reopened cut above the left threatened to force them closed. But they were sharp, as sharp as ever, and Ginoza had known his old friend a long, long time. Kougami was a born detective. He wouldn’t need words to solve this case, as Ginoza had.

Sato was a man of few words, though he had enjoyed injecting them at sudden intervals, calculated to unsettle his interrogator.

_“—has already spoken about your Artifact. It would be to your own benefit to comply—”_

_“So you are the ‘hounds’ I hear so much about,” Sato interrupted, eyeing Ginoza and Sugo genially. “Servants of the servants of Sibyl. A paradox of imprisonment.”_

_Ginoza was familiar with the tactic, one clever criminals used instead of stonewalling, targeting their comments to best turn the dynamic in their favor, to lead the officer into chasing them down until he had given over control of the flow of the interrogation. Ginoza was no Saiga, but he recognized the attempts for what they were. And he was unwilling to be led._

_“Both of your associates are being interrogated concurrently,” Ginoza said, in the same, stern, flat tone. “Though by now, it’s quite possible that the methods have escalated, to ones which compel them to—”_

_“And you hounds have keepers,” Sato mused, fiddling his thumbs, continuing his train of thought as if Ginoza had not been speaking. “Masters, owners, that you protect with a dog’s devotion – as you protected the infamous Akane.”_

_Ginoza gritted his teeth, resisting the yank of his chain. “That is not the area of interest now.”_

_“Ah, but it is an area of_ my _interest. She is, after all, what brought down my organization. Certainly curiosity about my petite conqueror can be entertained?”_

_“Your organization remains,” Ginoza said stiffly, with a pointed glare at the infuriatingly calm man. “Only three of you have been captured – hardly a conquest.”_

_“A route, then,” Sato conceded amiably. “Impressive, for a woman of her size.”_

_Ginoza blinked, forced to shutter aside the image of Akane, her tiny form too pale, stretched out on the med bay cot, too many wires connected to too many beeping machines which were somehow keeping her alive. “Skill is often more crucial than strength.”_

_“I should say so.” Sato’s tone was now genial and open. It was a looked-for sign that the subject was willing, a cue for the interrogator to pursue deeper avenues of questioning. And yet the interrogator’s tongue was leaden, and the terrorist had pressed on confidently. “She seems quite adept at maneuvering her way out of trouble, and into confidences. I never did credit those old tales about emperors brought low by the wiles of women. Perhaps that was my flaw.”_

_The hound had bristled, hackles rising. “You’re describing women with no relation to the one you shot. If that’s the kind of ignorance you display than yes – it is no wonder you’ve been routed.”_

_The edges of Sato’s eyes crinkled. “You know her well, then, servant of Sibyl.”_

_Ginoza mentally processed the dangerous turn he’d allowed the conversation to take, and intellectually prepared several ways to redirect, even as his mouth betrayed him. “You would do well to curb your curiosity,_ terrorist _. Your lifespan is truncated enough as is.”_

_Reminded of his immanent death, the leader of the Sunset Runners had chuckled. “Ah. You’re protective of this Akane. She truly must be a remarkable woman.” Sato’s smile remained, but his gaze went sword-sharp as he delivered his next line. “Were you her lover too?”_

_Were you her lover too?_

The words had pounded in Ginoza’s head as he rose, despite Sugo’s protests. They had cycled around on repeat as he had slammed out of interrogation room 602 and kept time with his boots as he beat his way down to room 604. They had buzzed in the back of his mind while he stiffly lied to his inspector, and then had revved back up to maximum volume when the door he’d broken by ripping out the wires sealed soundly, unbreakably shut behind her. They had reached full screaming levels as he flung his former friend to the ground, and had continued as he beat him, half- _more_ than half-willing Kougami to rise and fight back.

Now he stood over Kougami, vibrating with anger, his metal arm a burden that pulled on the connected tissues. _Deny it_ , he thought, glaring down at his former friend. _For God’s sake, Kougami. For your sake._ _For hers._

Kougami’s steel grey eyes met his. The man swallowed, hard, and then let his head drop.

 _Dammit._ “You just couldn’t do it, could you? The one thing…the one thing you owed us, you couldn’t manage. Fine. You came back – and just like I knew you would, you came back leading the scum you became. But dammit, Shinya, why couldn’t you have stayed away from her?”

At the use of his first name, Kougami flinched as he hadn’t when he was taking physical blows. Ginoza heard something mumbled beneath the other man’s breath. “What? Now you have something to say?”

Kougami spoke slowly and softly, around broken teeth, through a mouth full of blood. “..’ried…sorry…”

“You’re what?” Ginoza fumed, and felt the need for violence again itching in his dead arm. “Speak up, Kougami. You’ve never been shy about excuses before.”

Kougami’s shoulders heaved, and he slowly lifted his head enough for Ginoza to see the deep, wretched guilt clearly through the blood. “…said…I tried.”

~

Hinakawa stared at the screen with wide eyes until they burned, unwilling to close them. He’d never met Kougami, and despite Ginoza’s vicious beating, the former Inspector, cum Enforcer, cum terrorist still appeared as dangerous as advertised. But watching the rapidly escalating verbal battle between the two, Hinakawa began to realize how little he truly knew Ginoza. And strain though he might, he felt he was missing some crucial link to understanding the screaming argument being broadcast over the monitors.

“…as if that wasn’t enough, you had to drag her along with you—”

“Gino, I couldn’t make her leave.”

“You wanted her to stay. It’s the same to her, and you knew that. Don’t try to pretend ignorance, Kougami. You’re no fool.”

“No? I think my current situation suggests otherwise.”

“Your current situation is deserved, and of your own making. Tsunemori’s is entirely due to your actions, your choices—”

“I know, I know! You think I’m not aware of that? You think I didn’t think of that every time I—”

Kougami choked off, and Hinakawa started when Karanomori let out a sharp gasp onto his ear. “No,” she murmured, paling even more beneath her already white skin. “They didn’t. Well, I’ll be—”

“—damned her to exactly the kind of fate she tried to save you from,” Ginoza berated, and Hinakawa did recognize the sharp note of disapproval the former Inspector could still conjure up whenever he was truly irked. “I knew you were selfish, Shinya. But I genuinely didn’t think you were willingly that cruel.”

Kougami laughed, a bark of a thing, that made Hinakawa and Karanomori both shudder. “I tried to tell her that, too. You know what arguing with her is like.”

“So that’s your excuse?” Ginoza’s fists curled again, and Hinakawa winced in advance sympathy for the other man on the ground. “She wore you down? It’s all on her, is it?”

“No.” The word seemed ripped from Kougami, and Hinakawa couldn’t help but feel pity for the no-longer-latent criminal. “No…if I could take it all on…Gino, if I could switch places with her now—”

“Pointless.” Ginoza cut his old friend off viciously. “Empty words. You can’t undo what’s been done to her.”

Kougami cringed, the vein in his neck pulsing, more blood dripping out of his nose, over his eyes, damping his wild hair to his forehead. “I’m—sorry.”

“You think apologies are what she needs right now?”

Hinakawa and Karanomori were so intent on the two men on the screen that the door to the Analyst’s office slid open without them noticing until the petite, furious Inspector came up behind them.

“Why the hell can’t we get into the room?” Mika demanded. “Did either of you help him do this? I swear, if all you latent criminals are working together to help your friend—”

“Shut up!” Karanomori snapped, ignoring her superior’s shocked gasp at the impertinence. “We’re trying to hear them.”

“How _dare_ —”

“This is important, Mika. Be quiet. You might learn something, for once.”

~

“You aren’t.”

Ginoza spat it out at Kougami as he realized it. Looking down at him, he felt sickened that he’d once considered him a friend. “You aren’t sorry – not really. Not that it happened.”

He glared into Kougami’s sheer-steel eyes. Even still, he waited for a denial. _I could forgive you_ , Ginoza thought. _Even still. If only for this…please, Shinya_.

Kougami sighed, a lifting and lowering of his massive chest beneath the shirt now red-stuck to his torso. He held Ginoza’s gaze. There was shame in it – some. Some, but not enough. Not enough to equal regret. _Dammit._ “You’re a bastard, Kougami. A selfish bastard. And I am done with you.”

Ginoza turned on his heel and marched towards the door. His hands were pressed against the wedge he’d left himself for access, when Kougami spoke behind him.

“At least tell me how she is.”

Ginoza took a long, slow, considering breath, to calm himself. Then he turned back around, strode over to the kneeling criminal, and kicked him hard in the face.


	20. Revelation

 

_Hey y'all!_

_Guess who's back, back again? I know you have been SO patient and so wonderful about waiting for this update. I had to work on some professional things before I could get back to ficcing, but I HAVE been thinking of all of you! (Same to my Mutant High fans -- the new season IS in production! Will just take a bit longer!)_

_I cannot express how much all your comments and reviews mean -- they are the fuel that keeps this ol' story chugging along. Keep 'em coming, and I'll keep churning out the updates!_

**Revelation**

“Your compatriot appears quite distressed.”

It took every ounce of Sugo’s willpower not to launch himself across the table and tackle the smug terrorist. “And you appear quite calm,” he said. “You must not know what’s in store for you.”

Sato smiled, as if the menacing Enforcer had given him a quaint, old-fashioned compliment, rather than a threat. “Ah, yes. In your all-knowing society everyone knows his place; his future is as clear as day, because your god is a sibyl.”

“Sibyl isn’t a god.”

“No?” Sato raised a brow, and to Sugo’s irritation, his grin became even wider. “Do you not worship at its altar? Does it not define your life – laying out the parameters of what you are allowed to think, feel, and believe? Does it not have access to your very mind? Does it not rate your souls based on their colors – and if it finds them lacking, does it not judge and damn you?”

Sugo shivered, but refused to look away from Sato’s unblinking gaze. “I’ve heard this kind of pitch before – more than once. It would be more convincing if it didn’t always come from people like you. When someone innocent of all wrongdoing stands up and defies the System, then we’ll talk.”

“Then I suppose we must wait until the very day of judgement,” Sato said companionably. “For in this world you have created, who can be innocent and aware? Only those who have fallen into the abyss can truly understand and see clearly what must be done.”

“And I suppose you’ll tell me all about that, huh?”

Sato tilted his head, though his eyes still did not blink. “Perhaps someday. Alas, we have no time for it now.”

Sugo opened his mouth to reply, when a warning on his communicator drew his gaze downward. He was frowning at the intermittent signal, trying to make out the message, when the blow landed to the back of his head. As he slumped forward, toppling down with his chair, he could just see the hazy figures who had silently invaded the impenetrable room.

 “Ala…young…hunt…dog…” Sato’s voice was a dim, wavering strand, fading as Sugo lost hold of consciousness. “…your…prophet is not…foreseeing as you…believed.”

~

“…and how dare you! Did you completely forget who and what you are?”

Hinakawa winced, and Shion scowled, but Ginoza remained stoic in the face of the furious little Inspector. “Apparently. My apologies for forgetting my station and my duty.”

“Your apologies?” Mika fumed, hands on her hips, as she cricked her neck up to glare at the much taller man. “You think that is enough? Your apologies have no meaning, _Enforcer_. You lied to your superior. You took the law into your own hands.”

Ginoza curled his human hand; Kougami’s blood dripped from his bruised knuckles. “I did.”

“And? And?” Mika’s voice rose and trembled, her youthful quaver breaking through in her fury. “You have nothing more to say for yourself?”

“My apologies are insufficient, Inspector. What more would you like me to offer you?”

Mika flushed red in aggravation and embarrassment, and drew in a breath that might have ended on a yell, had the door not hissed open. A bloodied Kunizuka, stumbled, gasping, into the Analysts' office.

“Yayoi!” Shion rushed over to her sometime lover. “What—“

“In the interrogation cells – they jumped us – fried the security system – they got them, Shi-shi.”

Mika recovered enough to rush to fill the silence following the raven-haired Enforcer's announcement. “What? What are you talking about? Got who?”

Kunizuka stared into the eyes of the petite Inspector without a shred of deference. “Sato and his boy, Park. The Runners got them. They knocked out Sugo – left him alive, but he’s hurt.”

Division One registered the news in total silence for a complete minute, and then Ginoza whirled around to Shion. “Karanomori,” he said, using the voice of an Inspector. “Check it. Check all the cameras around the interrogation cells. They can’t have gotten far.”

The Analyst obeyed, one hand still protectively supporting Kunizuka, who was already shaking her head. “I was chasing every stray noise down there – I could hear a kind of thumping, but I couldn’t see them anywhere. It was like they disappeared into the walls.”

“Not possible,” Ginoza said immediately, even as Shion brought up the screens showing the empty area around interrogation. “Not possible…”

“How could they have gotten in?” asked Hinakawa, pushing his red hair out of his eyes with shaking fingers. “I mean…we brought them here…all the way through the city. How could they have gotten past all the street scanners, and then into the MWPSB?”

Mika, who had been gaping like a fish out of water as the team functioned without her leadership, grasped onto the tiny hacker’s final comment. “Help! I mean—” She cleared her throat when the others glanced her way. “They must have had help!”

“From who?” Ginoza asked, bluntly, and without the usual, nominal, respect for her authority.

Mika snarled, and all but stamped her foot. “Are you really going to play coy, Enforcer? It’s obvious. It should be obvious to all of you!” She looked around at her team, and then, when no one prompted her further, stormed up to the screens and pointed. “Him, of course!”

Kunizuka glanced up to the screen which showed a bleeding, bruised Kougami slowly lifted himself with hands bound into his chair. “Wait – why is he injured? Was he attacked as well?”

“No, of course not!” Mika snapped. She blushed redder when Kunizuka raised a brow at her, but pushed on, “Why would they attack him? He’s their in! Don’t you see? He was leading them here from the beginning! He must have told them how to enter the Bureau without being detected.” She switched her glare to Ginoza. “He fooled you. He fooled you all.”

As if in perfect answer to Shimotsuki’s pronouncement, the automated voice of Chief Kasei sounded out from the communicators on all their wrists. “Inspector Shimotsuki, Enforcer Ginoza, Enforcer Kunizuka. I understand we have suffered a breach in security.”

Mika pulled her com close to her mouth, and hurriedly answered, “Yes! Yes, while I was—” She shot a triumphantly furious look at Ginoza – “drawn away by false pretenses, the other interrogators lost their subjects. Only the former Enforcer remains – likely,” she finished on a ringing high note, tossing her hair, “because he was the mastermind of their escape.”

“Actually,” Kasei responded flatly, amusement in the icy, mechanical tone, “he had no involvement.”

“What?” Mika stuttered. “Chief—”

“Inspector Shimotsuki,” Kasei purred through the coms. “Thank you, for running such a tight, clean ship. Now please deliver the remaining members of Division One into my office. And do include our erstwhile Enforcer. We have much to discuss with Kougami Shinya.”

~

Kougami did not lift his eyes from his bound hands as he was marched to the Chief’s office, but he was well-aware of those who watched him as they passed. Ginoza and Kunizuka could not fully shield him from all the curious members of the Bureau who lined the halls, desperate for a glimpse of the recaptured rogue Enforcer-turned-terrorist.

Kougami was numb to their stares, as numb as his arms when Ginoza jerked him roughly to the right as they arrived at Kasei’s office. He didn’t blame his former friend – why should he? It was no more than he deserved.

“I’ll be waiting right here,” the tiny, scowl-prone Inspector insisted, as if it had any bearing on their actions. Kougami remembered her, vaguely – she’d been at the school with Oryo’s daughter. He spared a glance into her eyes as the doors hissed open; he wondered how much of the brittle harshness in them would crumble if she truly faced her loneliness. Certainly, he knew what it was to believe you were strong, only to be defeated by tenderness.

The remaining Enforcers of the MWPSB entered as his jailors, and he made no protest. He heard the metallic switch of the chair as it turned, and then the icy voice of the head of the Bureau. “My. What a thing it is, to have the entire Division One reunited again.”

Kougami had sworn he would not speak, but he felt the cringe go through Ginoza’s whole body and into his. Bearing up under the weight of his longtime friend’s grief and smothered fury, Kougami made himself raise his head. He glared full-force into the Chief’s eyes, and noted that the pupils could go slantwise, like a serpent’s. “What’s the point in lying to a terrorist and your own hounds? Enemies and servants exist so that we may have those among us to whom we are freely cruel.”

The harsh eyes widened, and then the stretched, tight face made to smile. “There he is. That’s the Kougami Shinya that we remember; so eloquent. So defiant.” Kasei’s razor fingernails drifted over her keyboard. “And still, so very misguided. I have no intention whatsoever of lying. Openness will be extended to you. I would appreciate the same on your part.”

Kougami’s entire throat and the left side of his face violently complained when he huffed out a pained laugh. “Is that so? How courteous of you. Let me guess; the System’s programming judged that after I’d been worked over a little bit, I’ll be more amenable to bargaining for my life? I suppose your calculations assume humans value their lives intrinsically, and therefore I’ll do anything to preserve mine?”

Kasei’s smile was like the slow unfolding of a venomous plant. “No, indeed. If humans were such rational creatures, there would be no need for the System – wars would not happen as a matter of logic. Alas, as a species humanity possesses an infinite capacity to act on wild, irrational emotion. Protecting you from that is the very reason the Sibyl System exists.”

Kougami chuckled again, further splitting his broken lip. “Well, this is refreshing – you really do want honesty. You admit that your goal is to protect us from our very humanity. And thus, you expose the fatal flaw in your own design: an inability to account for true human nature.”

Ginoza smothered a comment, and Kunizuka’s grip on Kougami’s arm tightened in warning, but Kasei’s grin remained. “You speak as one who understands the blunder. Nothing in nature is without flaw. The greatest good to the greatest number is not a perfect society – it assumes that there will be some percentage who suffer. Still, it is the best system we can possibly create.”

“I’d like to test that theory.”

“I am well aware.” Kasei’s eyebrow arched and remained perked as if frozen by a switch. “You and your Runners. They are at present loose within the bowels of our city, searching for enough of a cleavage point to split apart the very foundation of our society.”

Kougami arched his brow in response, despite what it cost him in blood. “That doesn’t sound like a problem I’m inclined to solve.”

His cavalier words made Ginoza again protest in a wordless grunt, and Kunizuka winced. But Kougami’s grin faded when Kasei’s remained. “Oh, how disappointing. It was my understanding that you were a man ever in search of a puzzle to solve. Why, you fled halfway across the world in the pursuit of a challenge worthy of your talents. And here I provide you with one tailor made for you.”

“I am not denying my interest,” Kougami said coolly, with as much of a shrug as he could manage with bound hands and a dislocated shoulder. “But as I reject the basic premise of the System’s existence, I’m not going to fight to protect it just for the surge of solving a mystery. I may be a hunting dog, but I don’t have to run after every scent that passes under my nose.”

“How poetic,” Kasei praised. “You are a man of few but poignant words, Kougami-san. I am sure we could continue to amuse ourselves by running circles around each other in vague theoretical arguments for hours. But despite the pleasure of crossing swords with a man of your intellect, we have no time for such frivolities. And so, a more direct appeal is necessary.”

Kasei’s fingernails bore down on her keypad, and the screens behind her blinked into life. Kougami seized, tensing up as he had not under any of Ginoza’s blows. The other two Enforcers had to hold him up when his knees threatened to buckle. Kougami blinked rapidly, but his eyes refused to close to the sight of Akane in the medical wing, pale and silent and senseless, IV drips feeding her unconscious, unmoving, bruised body.

“As you can see,” Kasei said, in a voice that dripped false sympathy, “the technology you so despise is all that is standing between Akane and an untimely death. So tragic. And this is hardly the first time she’s gone into danger on your account, Shinya.”

Kougami broke from his pained staring at Akane to glance back at the Chief. She nodded, visibly enjoying his agony, her eyes glittering like tantalum. “Oh, yes. Did you never wonder why she was so committed to bringing you in before you had a chance to eliminate Makishima? Certainly, she wished for justice to be done…but, as you yourself have proven, humans are never so pure in their ideals. She bargained with us, Enforcer. She made a deal for your life, in exchange for his. If only she had known how little you valued it, perhaps she would not have come to such grief. But then, we calculate not.”

Kougami made a sound in the back of his throat that might have begun a protest; but Kasei was not finished.

“Ah – that look. We recognize it well. Inspector Tsunemori wore the very same one when we showed her scans of your activities post-escape as a noble guerrilla fighter. Her capabilities as a detective rival even yours, Kougami, as I am sure you have noted. And yet, she did not perceive our involvement in the case of Chairman Han until the eleventh hour – so intent was her desire to once more find a way to rescue you from yourself.”

Kasei leaned back in her chair, tenting her fingers and savoring the horror on all three faces before her. She took in Kunizuka’s white-lipped fear, and Ginoza’s shaking, impotent fury, before focusing back on the wounded Kougami. “You accuse our programming of failing to take into account human nature. But based upon these instances, we calculated that there was an 87.95% chance that Inspector Tsunemori was in love with you, Kougami Shinya.”

Kasei let the silence stand, enjoying the reactions of the three. Ginoza had gone stiff, his expression a rictus of stunted horror. Kunizuka let out a slow breath of realization, and her gaze drifted from the immobile Akane on screen to the man beside her.

Kasei continued to speak, tapping her nails together like pincers. “Then of course, the events of the last few weeks have provided new data on the subject. Her objective was to locate the Runners, discern their mode of attack, and report back to us their position. Drones would then be dispatched to finish the mission. Her willingness to agree was once more conditional upon being allowed to bring you back for an antiquated trial by human peers. Obviously, that did not play out as she had hoped. I don’t suppose she told you she was being tracked? At any moment, she had the means to contact us to send in a specialized team for a targeted strike and extraction. No. Despite the danger to her own person, she chose a route that would allow her time, time she spent thinking of once again how to bargain for your life.” The Chief cricked her neck, her hinge of a smile sharpening her jawline. “Based upon her recent actions, we have raised our estimation of her feelings for you to 95.6%, a near certainty.”

Kougami didn’t flinch. He didn’t drop, though Ginoza and Kunizuka tightened their hold on him as if they feared he might, or worried he would lunge at the head of the Bureau. He merely almost imperceptible hunched, as if the bandaged wound in Akane’s stomach were his own. Slowly, with extreme effort, he swallowed and then forced out one hushed word. “Why?”

“Hmm?”

Kougami raised his steel eyes to Kasei’s dull, blue-black orbs. “Why am I still alive?”

Kasei’s hinged grin remained in place, as her voice went even drier than usual. “I would have thought I just spent the last few minutes making that bluntly obvious.”

Kougami grinned now, a bearing of his teeth that made Ginoza grunt a non-verbal warning. “You said you wanted honesty, Chief. If you wanted me dead, it wouldn’t matter what A—” He seemed to be having trouble saying her name – “what she wanted. If you’re humoring her bargains for my life, it’s for more than pure scientific curiosity.”

“As agile at deflection as ever, former Inspector,” Kasei commended. “And as ever, your keen hunting dog’s senses detect more than is good for your health.”

Kougami shrugged, with a mirthless chuckle. “My health is pretty low on my list of priorities, Chief – or couldn’t you tell?”

“Yes.” Kasei’s robotic eyes flicked from Kougami to the slightly flushed Ginoza and back. “But it is not your health that is in jeopardy.”

At that, Kougami did jerk forward. Ginoza and Kunizuka held him back, but just barely, and not entirely willingly. “Chief,” Ginoza protested. “You can’t mean to hold Inspector Tsunemori hostage to ensure his cooperation?”

He paused, waiting for an affirmation that did not come. “Chief! We can find the Runners on our own. We don’t need him—”

“Are you so newly certain of your capabilities – Enforcer?” Kasei arched a brow, elegant as ever in her cruelty. “You suddenly believe you are fit to take on the role of leader of Division One?”

Ginoza trembled with shame and anger, and Kunizuka had to work twice as hard to hold Kougami back. “We can handle this,” the female Enforcer insisted. “With Shimotsuki—”

A single blistering glance from Kasei was enough to silence her. “No,” the Chief determined. “The junior Inspector is not sufficient to this task. Tsunemori is…” Kasei took a moment to sneer at Kougami’s strained, aching fury “…unavailable. We need a detective of the highest caliber, and it just so happens that we have one. That he has inside knowledge of the criminals we are tracking is quite the bonus.”

“Chief, this is—”

“Settled.” The snarl in Kasei’s voice was subtle, but unmistakable. She addressed the other two Enforcers nominally, but her eyes were for Kougami. “There will be no discussion, for there are no other options, and you are all capable of admitting as much.”

“You would let her die, just to force my hand?”

Kougami’s voice was a dangerous, husky sound, more growl than anything else. Kunizuka shivered hearing it, and then again when she glanced at his profile. She had never seen him with an expression like that in all the years she had worked alongside him. It was the look of one who had taken a life; it was the look of one fully willing to take another.

“It would be a loss,” Kasei answered silkily. “We have great respect for Inspector Tsunemori’s talents. She is an asset to the department.”

“You’re inhuman,” Kougami charged.

Kasei actually giggled. “Oh, Shinya. You, too, are an asset to our department. And you will help us,” she declared, her voice lowering into a range deeper than a woman of her size should have possessed, her eyes like nails as they fought a silent war with his. “You will, Enforcer. Or the woman you love will once more pay the price for your crimes.”


	21. No Light

No Light

The silence, as they descended into the bowels beneath the city, was as oppressive as the pressure that increased the lower they delved. Ginoza led them down the utterly out-of-date ladder, the area they were accessing too primitive for elevators. Kougami followed after him. The monitor strapped to his wrist, a steel cuff he knew could deliver a full-body shock to his system, glinted in the light of the automated torches Yayoi and Shimotsuki held as they followed him. The petite Inspector, in particular, glared at it and him more than once. Kougami met her gaze and she gave a slight quirk of her lips, as if she thought he was cowed by the cuff.

Kougami let her think what she would. Clearly, it was worn more for her benefit than anyone else’s, to explain to her why she should feel safe enough to trust his leadership in finding the Runners. It was a thoroughly perfunctory device, of course. Kasei needed no greater leverage than the one she’d already applied.

“The old train tunnels split off two miles back.” Ginoza was the first to speak, his voice as clipped and blunt as Kougami remembered from the old days. “One of them is caved in. The other might still be open.” He shined his torch in front of them. “Here we have two sub lines, and then an old bunker from over a hundred years ago. They could have split up and each taken a tunnel.”

“But they didn’t.”

“Oh?” Ginoza’s scowl is also as Kougami remembers.

“They would have known exactly where they were headed from the start. They will move as a group; they won’t take detours.” Kougami eyed the tunnel to their right. “They won’t worry about us catching them, so long as they get to their target first.”

“Your target,” Ginoza said icily. “The one you mapped out for them.”

Kougami met his former friend’s eyes. In this, at least, he had no shame. “We head left.”

The odd new Division One trekked in yet more silence for a few yards. Kougami led from the front, Ginoza on his right. He slowly became aware of a smaller figure at his left, one which made her presence known through a series of huffs and pointed sniffs.

“Something smell off to you, Inspector?”

Shimotsuki looked up at him with a scowl. “You are the only one who could have known this part of the city sub-system. They are only continuing your plan.”

Kougami didn’t slow his pace. “Your point?”

“My point?” Shimotsuki stuttered. “My—you’re leading us to the very place you always planned this to end!”

“So?”

“So!” Shimotsuki almost managed a growl. “So there’s no reason to believe this isn’t part of your plan!”

“It isn’t.”

“You could still be working with the terrorists!”

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

When Kougami did not deign to answer, Shimotsuki increased her pace, pulling ahead to look across him. “We're just supposed to take his word for it? Inspec—Enforcer Ginoza, surely you can see where he’s leading us?”

“Not really,” Ginoza responded. “The torches have a limited range.”

Sputtering, Shimotsuki rounded on Kunizuka. “Enforcer Kunizuka! Surely you don’t trust this man to lead the team?”

Yayoi continued to look forward, using her torch to scan the damp sides of the abandoned tunnel. “I thought you were leading us, Inspector.”

“I—” Mika flushed, but kept up her scowl. “I don’t understand you all! How can you possible think he won’t betray us?”

“It’s quite simple, Inspector,” Ginoza said calmly. “We know he won’t because he already has.”

“What?”

“He knows he can never come back from that betrayal, and what it has done,” Ginoza continued, nonplussed as they angled right with the turn of the tunnel, “so now all he can do is desperately attempt to make amends, ever attempting, ever failing, like a dog chasing his tail.”

“Gee, Gino. Don’t go too easy on me.”

“You think you deserve more consideration?” Ginoza still didn’t look at Kougami, but his voice went a few degrees icier.

Kougami paused, examining the left side wall. “It’s not about what _I_ deserve,” he murmured, so low it was barely for anyone else to hear. But they did, and Ginoza couldn’t help but share a look with Kunizuka, that Shimotsuki couldn’t help but see.

“So, what?” she fumed. “You all just have your own, secretive little history with each other, and that’s supposed to be enough to go on? No wonder you were downgraded to Enforcers. I should give Tsunemori more credit – she at least maintained her psycho-pass.”

Kougami wasn’t expecting it; he wasn’t able to hide his flinch. Shimotsuki opened her mouth to respond, but he was saved by the sound of their coms going off. They opened the wrist links and the tiny holo of Shion beamed extra light into their darkness.

“Well?” the Analyst said. “Is anyone here going to include me? Or do I have to keep eavesdropping through the coms?”

Kougami huffed, Kunizuka rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and Ginoza’s lip twitched in something dangerously close to a smile. “If you’ve been listening you know there’s nothing much to report,” Ginoza answered. “We’ve yet to find any sign of the terrorists.”

“Always work, work, work with you, Nobuchika,” Shion purred amiably. “Don’t neglect the interpersonal. You boys always supply us with plenty of tension. I just didn’t want to miss out on the action.”

“Still the same Shion,” Kougami remarked. “Glad to know you’re entertained.”

“This isn’t a chat line, Analyst,” Shimotsuki cut in sullenly. “If you have nothing of import to add—”

“Actually, Inspector…”

Shion’s face blinked out, and was replaced by a tiny holo diagram of the MWPSB. A bright blue dot was pulsing at the bottom-most area.

“You all are here,” she explained. “And right now, I’m still able to keep track of you all. But a few meters ahead you’ll enter a dead zone, where all of my communications will break down.”

“Why?” Ginoza asked. “We should be right below you. It’s not as if the tunnel descends any further down.”

“I have no idea,” Karanomori confessed. “Everything just goes dead up ahead of you. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It must be how old this place is,” Yayoi stated. “If no signal can penetrate down here, it must have something to do with the age of the tunnels. It’s happened before, remember, Kougami?”

Kougami nodded. “But there’s something more this time – isn’t there?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d know,” Shion replied. “Yes. I said the air goes dead ahead of you, and that’s what I mean – always ahead of you. The blackout zone is moving.”

All eyes turned to Kougami. “So it’s them,” Mika said, and then added, voice rising, “and you knew. You’re leading us into a trap!”

“We’re supposed to catch them,” Kougami answered without inflection. “That was the directive you got from Sibyl, wasn’t it?”

“You could have warned us!”

“ _I’m_ warning you,” Shion put in. “That’s my job – to monitor the tech, and make sure none of it malfunctions or is used to harm any part of Division One. I can promise you all, I will fulfill that duty.”

Mika frowned, still peevish, but Kougami shot a quick glance at Yayoi to confirm his hypothesis. Yayoi nodded, just slightly, affirming her lover’s message.

“There’s something else,” Shion began. “When I first checked, I thought it was a glitch. But now, running over the cameras again I can see…if…--definitely a way of—read…forward…”

Shion’s voice died as the wrist holos went black. The Dominators Mika, Yayoi, and Ginoza held made a hissing sound, as if fighting something, and then also blinked out. The torches in their hands slowly dimmed.

“What’s happening?” Mika demanded into the dark. “What is it?”

“Exactly what we were just discussing,” Kougami answered, his voice lower, harsher, no longer the voice of a detective, but of something more hard-bitten. “We’re in the dead zone.”

“Wait, why?” Mika snapped, panicky. “We haven’t even moved! How are we already in the dead zone?” She rounded on Kougami; he could feel her tiny frame quivering beside him. “She said they were still meters away! We shouldn’t be on them yet!”

“They were,” Kougami replied grimly. “And we shouldn’t. But something changed.”

“What?” the Inspector demanded.

Ginoza was the one to answer. “They turned around,” he surmised darkly. “We’re not on them anymore. They’ve about-faced; they’re coming after us.”

~

Scattered shafts of light burned through a mass of indistinguishable sounds. She could feel his body, the heat of it, but fading, leaving her cold. Numb. “kane…Ak…an…e…”

His voice morphed, becoming higher, thinner, colder. Akane felt pain surge into her body, and with it sharp awareness. The light codified, becoming shapes.

“Akane Tsunemori.”

For a moment, Akane felt she was staring into a snake, it’s coils wrapped around her aching hand, as feeling returned to her limbs. Then her sight cleared.

“There you are,” Kasei said, her voice bare of sympathy. The robotic face of Sibyl grinned. “Well, Inspector. Shall we begin?”


	22. Pathei Mathos

_It’s been too long, my lovelies!_

_Yes, I am returned, and have not forgotten this story, namely because you all won’t let me! And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. I have been busy with day jobs plus dance plus my professional writing, but all the comments and kudos I get here have just been like shots of happiness on days when I felt horribly, awfully down, reminding me that I created something that so many people enjoy, so there has to be some good to my existence._

_I hope you all enjoy the update, and j’adore, j’adore my wonderificous fans._

 

**Pathei Mathos**

Kougami could feel Ginoza somewhere to his left; he could hear the tiny Mika’s rapid breathing, too loud and obvious for any hunter to miss. Yayoi he couldn’t detect, but she’d always been the best at masking her heartbeat. Kougami had learned all the arts of concealment in the years since his exile, but he’d still been a student when Sato was long a master.

“Do you remember the Naypyidaw raids, Wolf 1?” Sato’s voice echoed off the cavernous walls, and Kougami cursed silently; the rebel leader had positioned himself so that he was impossible to locate. “We were pinned down on Death Highway, the Burmese royal guard and the Rohingya Liberation Front coming at us from both sides. With no way out, the Runners would have lost the day, if not for you. I don’t believe I ever properly thanked you for that.”

“Don’t mention it,” Kougami called out, despite Ginoza’s hiss. “Is this where I’m supposed to supply my last touching memories of you and I as brothers-in-arms?”

“Last?” Sato’s voice advertised shock, but thrummed with amusement. “Are you here to kill me, Kougami?”

“We’re here to bring you in, for crimes against the sovereign state of Japan,” Ginoza answered for him. Kougami could literally feel Ginoza’s glare at him to agree. “Yeah,” Kougami supported, “whether that’s in one piece or hundreds is up to you.”

“Ah. So she’s still alive then.”

~

“What do you want with me?”

Akane was treated to Kasei’s icy chuckle. “So wonderfully direct. We have always appreciated your resilience, Inspector. It remains, it seems, even in the most desperate of circumstances.”

Akane refused to rise to the bait. “If my circumstances are so desperate, what does that make yours? The Sunset Runners have infiltrated mainland Japan, and their objective remains—”

“Their objective is of no concern,” Kasei brusquely interrupted. “They were never the threat they believe themselves to be.”

“The threat you led me to believe they were,” Akane accused. Kasei merely raised a mechanical brow. “Come now, Tsunemori, let’s not stand on false affront. We both know a commitment to protecting Sibyl was not why you embraced this mission.”

Akane’s spine, aching as it was, still stiffened at the delicate emphasis the machine placed on “embraced.” “Are you accusing me of dereliction of duty, Chief?”

“Indeed.” The cold blue eyes seared into Akane’s own. “But we would have been most disappointed if you had not.”

“So you don’t consider the mission a failure?” Akane knew she was dancing around the point Kasei wanted her to come to, but she needed her head to stop pounding enough that she could collect her thoughts. Her recent memories were blurred…she bit her already sore lip as she tried to maintain a neutral expression. What had they seen? She had been hit – had he?

“Hardly. You’ve given us the exact data we required, and much more.”

Akane blinked, the beeping of machines fulfilling the functions her body couldn’t manage cutting into her concentration. “Data? You could have observed the Runners with drones. Why did you need me to infiltrate them if not for what I learned?” The heart monitor sped up, beeping erratically. “Did you perform a scoop on me without my consent?”

Kasei smiled, the system basking in her distress, before answering, “No. It would have been irrelevant. The mind alone could not supply the data we require.”

Akane could taste her own desperation as she swallowed. Kasei was toying with her, the System unwilling to fill in exactly how much it knew, relishing her fear of what she could not ask. “You should be made aware – the Runners are more dangerous than we first estimated. They seem unconcerned about flouting the technological advantages Japan possesses, and hint that—”

“Their arrogance is unfounded,” Kasei dismissed. “Fear of them is a waste of resources.”

The machine monitoring body temperature marked a sharp elevation. “Then what exactly was your point in sending me? Was everything I endu—was all of it a diversion?”

“Certainly not,” Kasei insisted. “Your presence with the Runners was vital to the success of our study.”

Akane’s head ached. She tried to fist her hands, succeeding in half-curling them, nails clawing the bedsheets. “And did my _presence_ teach you what you needed about the terrorists on our soil?”

“You seem to be missing the point. The Runners were never our main objective.”

Akane chilled. “ _Kougami_.”

Kasei tsked, a robotic clicking in the back of her throat. “Emotional to the point of obtuseness. My dear Inspector – our object of study was you.”

~

“Remain calm.” Ginoza’s hiss barely registered in Kougami’s ear. “Kougami. He’s trying to bait you.”

“I’m aware, Gino,” Kougami shot back. _And it’s working._

“How fascinating it is to see – well, _witness_ you working with your old master.” Sato’s goading voice echoed out again, and Kougami could feel Yayoi curse as she failed again to triangulate his position. “Does obedience return so swiftly to those raised in captivity? I always thought those who fought for their freedom relished it more than those gifted with it from birth. You are, as ever, an enigma, Shinya.”

“Surrender!” Mika’s tiny voice came out a surprisingly strong vibrato as she shouted, “Under the authority of the SEUN-Pacific Pact, you are subject to Japanese law! Lay down your weapons, or prepare to be apprehended by the Ministry of Public Safety.”

There was a moment of silence, where Kougami warred between anger and grudging respect for the tiny inspector’s courage. Sato’s booming laugh was followed by Park’s. “And who is this? Another valiant civil servant ready to kill or die for their beloved System? Or perhaps it is not the system that she loves?”

Kougami flung the useless torch, aiming high and grinning in the dark when Park let out a yelp. There was the sound of movement, as their enemy quickly scattered to prevent unmasking of their position. “So they have taken from you weapons, eh, Kougami?” Sato taunted. “Ah, but it was ever so. We will fight to the death to break one set of chains, only to willingly shackle ourselves in the pursuit of our desires.”

“I don’t know about you,” Ginoza called out loudly. “But I’m about sick of this pontificating. Was this what you listened to all that time with these terrorists? No wonder you couldn’t take it anymore.”

“It did tend to wear on me,” Kougami called back, signaling his position to Ginoza in response. He could sense the rest of the team switching positions, readying themselves. “And I thought Makishima could be pretentious.”

“Your team don’t seem like fools, Kougami,” Sato stated, and Kougami could tell by the slightly winded sound that the other fighter was in motion. “Though it’s hard to quantify the intelligence of anyone willingly submitting to this System. Do you intend them to die for you, here? Surely, you don’t care to stop us in achieving the very mission you designed?”

“They’re the ones with the mission; I intend you to die.” Kougami said casually, as the slight click signaled Ginoza and Yayoi prepping their EMP grenades. “One just facilitates the other.”

“Calculation does not favor you, Kougami,” Sato replied, almost genially. “You’re not a cold man, though I confess, at times I thought you too removed, even feared we were utilizing a creature hollowed out by Sibyl to bring the leviathan down. To know you are not apart from the human element – it makes me only value your friendship more.”

“That’s very affirming. I suppose it means you’ll be understanding when I put you down the primal, human way?”

“Certainly, you must try,” Sato replied chivalrously. “I would do no less if one of my own had been injured as yours has. I am truly sorry it had to come between us. But men who lead must sometimes sacrifice their own humanity for the sake of others.”

“Save the sanctimonious bullshit, Sato,” Kougami growled. His empty fingers itched for a trigger. “The posturing is no different from every petty dictator we’ve ever overthrown. Hell, I probably would have killed you even if you hadn’t given the order – my eyes were getting clearer by the day, and I wasn’t the only one in the Runners to see it.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Sato chuckled into the darkness. “Women have a way of changing our view of the world. I can hardly blame you for that.”

“Funny,” Kougami shot back. “I can blame you just fine.”

Sato’s sigh echoed closer than before. “Conviction – it can come from hatred or from love, but never easily, and never in peace.”

~

“Me.”

Akane tried to wrap her fogged mind around this latest revelation. “You were…studying me?”

“You needn’t be so modest,” the Sibyl System advised. “You are well-aware that we find you a singularly fascinating subject. You possess a remarkably resilient Psycho-pass, and yet you frequently choose to oppose our goals. When the Sunset Runners appeared, we saw the perfect opportunity to run a controlled test of why a model citizen would choose to abandon certain peace and prosperity for the vagaries of a wild, lawless existence.”

“So I was…” Akane ground the words out from between clenched jaws, forcing her mind to follow. “I was your lab rat.”

“In a manner of speaking.” Kasei answered Akane’s evident fury with clinical calm. “Inspector Tsunemori, there is no need for histrionics. We have always used you, as you have always known. The only difference in this scenario is your awareness of our use of you.”

Akane hated the logic of the soulless machine. “Why.” It was not question, but demand.

“Our society is largely peaceful,” Kasei explained patiently. “Due in no small part to our efforts to eradicate pain and turmoil. Most submit willingly to our devices for this very outcome. And yet, we witness still the existence of those who deny the benefits our System brings, even when that rejection condemns them to certain pain – or even, it seems, because of it. You ask us, why did we send you into the arms of the Runners? We sent you to find an answer to the oldest question of all – what do women want?”

~

The EMP glinted into life in Ginoza’s hand, the smiling visage mocking as he lobbed it high and far.  Kougami traced its arch briefly, and then looked down as it exploded. The pulse rocked the old walls, throwing everyone off balance. Kougami caught sight of Sato diving to avoid a sheet of rock toppling from the ceiling. His hackles went up; he lunged. Ginoza’s shout was ignored, as always, as Kougami advanced on his prey.

~

Kasei had let the silence drag out, apparently immune to the shifting tones of the beeping, humming machines monitoring Akane’s physical and mental state. Akane didn’t know if they were screening her Psycho-pass, but she would have bet anything that her crime coefficient was rising. “You wanted to know what I want?”

“In a very specific, localized sense.” Kasei’s voice was now that of the System when it spoke from the depths of the MWPSB. “You are in many ways a model citizen. You are upright, committed to justice and order, and you understand the need for our existence to maintain the public good. Rarely do you do anything illogical or at variance with what we have determined the most beneficial course of action.”

Akane burned to hear herself described with such casual, bloodless approval – as if Sibyl found her a well-bred lap dog. “And you wanted to, what? See me act as what you term illogical?”

“We find nothing inconsistent with your actions while undercover. They all accord with our previous estimations of your cleavage point.”

Akane winced, a shot of pain up her spine coinciding with her confusion. “My what?”

Kasei folded her hands, the stiff, automated face approximating the expression of a teacher, a sickening alternate Saiga. “A cleavage point is a term for the fault line within a structure or organization – or organism – that, if properly stimulated, will cause a previously impregnable system to crumble. Human nature has natural cleavage points particular to the individual. Nevertheless, observing one can provide a wealth of understanding into those of others. Thus, observation of you allows us to develop a schematic of what is likely to account for the lingering appeal of deviation in your species.”

“Deviation.”

Kasei locked her eyes, the sightline of Sibyl, with Akane’s, as if they could bore into her brain from a distance. “Most Psycho-pass issues are caused by the pain and stress of interpersonal human relations. We once had a project, Project Silver, to develop AIs which would replace their inconstant human models – to no avail. It seems human relationships, despite their frequent, messy ends, are simply too alluring. In that respect, your relationship with Kougami Shinya has proven particularly illuminating.”

~

Ginoza threw another pulse grenade, and ducked down with Mika to scan the landscape in the disorienting flash of light. Yayoi was battling with the younger, smaller terrorist, Park. The force of the pulse pushed them apart; Kunizuka recovered first, aiming a kick that he dodged at the last second.

Ginoza glanced left, further down the dark expanse. A dim, blue light pulsed ominously at the other end of the tunnel. “Mika!” he instructed, as the darkness descended. “There! You see it?”

Mika was huddled to his left; he could just see her expression of fear, aggravation and excitement before it all went black. “Hound, our—our mission is—”

“Dammit, Shimotsuki, this isn’t the time to pull rank! Get down there and shut down whatever the hell that is, before this entire place comes down on all our heads!”

He heard the indrawn breath of his superior’s shock, and then the sound of her up and running. His own adrenaline pulsing throughout his body activated his metallic arm, and he felt a shudder – life in the circuits that had been deadened by the Runner’s tech.

Ginoza reached down and felt desperately around for his Dominator. His hands touched the fallen weapon just as another quiver went through him; this time it emanated from the west, the dark area where he had ordered Shimotsuki. Ginoza hefted the Dominator and smiled in vicious relief as the weapon synched up to him. He couldn’t see beyond the green glow of the Dominator, but he pivoted with the sounds of the battles raging to his left and right. He might not be able to see in the dark, but Sibyl could.

“Enforcer Kunizuka; crime coefficient, 270. Target is subject to enforcement.”

Ginoza angled the Dominator just slightly down, to coincide with the shouts, and, increasingly, whimpers of Kunizuka’s opponent.

“Crime coefficient 405.” The Dominator shifted into its lethal form in Ginoza’s hands. “Target is subject to enforcement. Aim carefully, and eliminate the target.”

“Yayoi, get back!”

Ginoza heard what sounded like a kick, and then someone rolling away. He sent a prayer to the man-made god of their world as he squeezed the trigger. The overwhelming light from the blast cut the dark, illuminating a triumphant Park, chest puffed out as he readied himself into a warrior’s stance. Then the blast collided with his right shoulder, and his expression changed to one of almost comical shock as his flesh began to expand. The light blissfully died out, leaving only the Runner’s truncated scream and a harsh splatter to signal his demise.

Ginoza turned left, towards the sounds of the final fight. This one ranged, forcing him to move his arms wildly in an attempt to lock-on.

“Crime coefficient; 700. Target is subject to enforcement. Crime coefficient, 590. Target is subject to enforcement. Aim carefully, and eliminate the target.”

“Shit!” Ginoza lowered the Dominator as it began to power up. _Dammit, Kougami_.

Ginoza could hear the thumping of fist-on-flesh, the heaving of harsh breathing as the two terrorists warred. A not-small part of Ginoza was willing to allow them to finish each other off; whether that meant one, the other, or both.

There was a hiss of metal, and then a hiss of pain—Ginoza could tell it was Kougami the knife had struck. Someone fell, hard, on his back. Ginoza heard a laugh that did not belong to his one-time friend. “It didn’t have to come to this, Wolf. You could have run with a pack that held to freedom. Instead you chose a dog’s collar – and rabid dogs are put down for the good of the master.”

His metallic arm seemed a phantom limb as it flung outward. Ginoza wasn’t aware of what he was doing until the Dominator slid from his hands. “Hound 3!”

Ginoza realized his folly as soon as the weapon was gone. He’d flung Sibyl’s instrument of sanction to two criminals, a useless gesture born of forlorn habit. He rose to his feet, eyes wide and blind, hands empty and helpless.

A whir, and then green light that burned Ginoza’s lids. “Kougami Shinya,” the Domintor purred to life. “Registered Enforcer.”

~

“You wanted him here.”

Akane waited for a reply from the monster looking at her with emotionless interest. “You knew.” It was a statement of fact, an admission of her own folly. “You knew Kougami was leading them from the beginning. You wanted him to lead them here.”

Kasei tilted her unfeeling head. “Did you really think your lover slipped past the National Border Patrol on his own auspices?”

Akane tried not to choke on that, but her face must have betrayed her because Kasei nodded. “There is no need for embarrassment. Your blindness only confirmed our hypothesis – that even our most singular inspector is vulnerable to that which infects all humans.”

Yes, Tsunemori. We knew – from the moment you abandoned yourself to the SEUN mission – from the way you rejected all sense and caution, all the training and savvy your instincts should have supplied – merely to be at his side—” Kasei’s hideous attempt at a smile curled Akane’s insides like a steel fist – “we knew that Kougami Shinya was your point of cleavage. Your feelings for him are the one overriding emotion more powerful than your dedication to reason, sense, and justice. If _you_ could fall to those base, overwhelming, human desires, then anyone could.”

~

The blade came down inches from Kougami’s cheek, slicing into his ear as he turned his head. He barely registered the cut; feeling Sibyl accessing his brain was far more painful. Still, as it interfaced with his cortex, it lit up his eyes with robotic green, allowing him to see Sato pull back the knife. Kougami thrust his left hand out, grabbing the other man’s neck and slamming his head into the ground. Rolling over, he leaned back in time to avoid being slit lengthwise by a recovered Sato. The slash on his stomach burning, Kougami pulled back as Sato shot to his feet. Sato discarded his blade and pulled a pistol from his hip, just as Kougami leveled the Dominator.

“Crime Coefficient, 700. Subject is target for enforcement.”

“Is this really how you want to kill me, Kougami?” Sato questioned. His pistol was trained on Kougami’s chest, but his gaze was on the inhuman, biomechanic green of the Enforcer’s eyes.

“No,” Kougami replied. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

“And so fulfill the goals of the System you brought us here to bring down,” Sato mused casually, though his breathing was labored. “Is love worth such subservience?”

“Asking the question means you could never comprehend the answer.”

Sato huffed a laugh. “A moment of pleasure purchased with a lifetime of pain? Surely you know your time is limited.”

Kougami forced himself not to glance over his shoulder and Sato saw. “Yes,” the Runner confirmed. “We’ve done exactly as you specified. It is done, Shinya, as you yourself assured.”

“I won’t cry over it.”

Sato smiled. “No. I imagine not.” His gaze hardened. “Well then. To the best m—”

The blast from the Dominator drowned out Sato’s last words. Kougami stood, unwilling to shield himself, as the other man’s chest expanded, bloating as the internal pressure built, boiling organs, cooking blood, before reaching the pitch-point, exploding viciously outward as the light faded, leaving the Enforcer coated in gore in the dark.


	23. Tick

_I'm back, y'all. I absolutely adore you all, and apologie for the wait. Between work and my computer giving me attitude it's been tricky to find the means to write, but I did it for you, my lovelies_

** Tick **

Kunizuka broke the liquid light stick, illuminating them all in a pale purple glow. Only their faces were clear; Mika’s frown bobbed like an unwelcome ghost, coming closer, eyes narrowed. “Where did you get that?”

Yayoi had no desire to open up the painful doors of her past to her petite superior. “A relic from an old confiscation. They used them at underground raves.”

Mika blinked, and Yayoi moved the stick slowly around, to survey the rest of their team. Ginoza stood over Park’s body, his long hair tangled and slick with what she knew would have been crimson in true light. He looked up slowly, and though she couldn’t read his expression, his nod was answer enough. As he walked towards them, Kunizuka pivoted, so that the light fell on Kougami.

He dripped, the stench of his kill coming off him in waves. He had let the Dominator fall to his side, and his shoulders hunched, making him appear even more canine than usual. He made no move to rid himself of the remains of Sato.

“I see Sibyl still knows how to manage her dogs.” Ginoza’s voice could still lash when he willed it. “Put the right meat in front of it, and he’ll bite just the same.”

Kougami flinched.

“Gino,” Kunizuka chided gently, and the former Inspector had the decency to look slightly ashamed.

“You’re in love with her.”

All three dogs turned towards their master. Mika was pointing an accusatory finger at Kougami, her expression both petulant and triumphant.

Kougami blinked, and Kunizuka saw a flash of agony race across his face, before being replaced with a sardonic mask. “Really? Most people have been heard to say I’m not Sibyl’s biggest fan.”

“Don’t play games with me; I am not a child,” Mika said, and Kunizuka had to admit that she didn’t sound like one. “We all know who I mean.”

“Well, well. I suppose you’re a detective after all, Inspector.”

Mika opened her mouth to say more, but was preempted by a shudder in the air that went through each of them like a shock. “What the hell was that?”

Kunizuka had felt the wave over her left shoulder, but she didn’t turn with Mika and Ginoza to look down the tunnel. She kept her gaze on Kougami, and he didn’t bother to avert his eyes.

“What is that, Shinya?”

Kougami slid his ice-blue eyes in her direction, and Kunizuka suppressed a shiver; there was something unsettled and predatory in his gaze. “We don’t need to be here anymore.”

Ginoza whipped his head away from the direction of the tunnel to glare, wide-eyed, at the former Inspector. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Oh, we’re not in any danger,” Shinya shrugged, with an affected casualness that succeeded now in sending that chill down Kunizuka’s spine. “But our flashlights will go out when the blast goes off, so unless we all want to stumble around here blindly, I suggest we make our way back out.”

“What have you done?” Ginoza demanded, his voice approaching that new, lower register he’d gained since being demoted to Hound. “Me, Gino?” Shinya said, with arched brow. “I’ve been right here with you, fighting off the deadly threat to our beloved System.”

“Cut the shit, Shinya,” Ginoza said, his voice one eerie flat note. “You know what they brought down here—you planned it, you told them how. What. Is. It?”

Shinya glanced down the tunnel, to where the vibrations were getting more powerful. “We called it the Artifact. It was developed by a scientist who traveled with us from SEAUn. His family had been murdered by a gang of bandits. He welcomed the System – at first. By the time he realized his mistake, his work had already been coopted. So, he decided to find a way to bring the whole thing down from the inside out.”

“And?”

Shinya turned to Yayoi. “It’s a modified, exponentially increasing EMP detonation device. When embedded just below the main crux of a power grid, it knocks out everything that is part of the system.”

There was a long silence consisting only of a moment. Then—

“Bastard!”

Ginoza charged too fast for Kunizuka to block him, barreling towards Kougami with a speed she couldn’t have anticipated, his metal fist already winding up. But Kougami didn’t allow the hit this time; dodging to the right, he caught Ginoza’s arm under the elbow with both of his. “Relax, Gino,” Kougami said, sounding so much like his old, unruffled self that Ginoza shivered in greater fury. “It’s not what you think.”

“You’re trying to bring down the Sibyl System by causing rampant chaos!” Mika shouted.

Kougami’s lip twitched. “Well, yes. But that’s only a bad thing if you love Sibyl. For the rest of us, it’s the first step towards freedom.”

“And you get to decide that?”

Kougami shrugged, and released a fuming Ginoza with a twist, so that the other man had to stumble away to stay on his feet. “That’s a question to ask your precious System, don’t you think?”

“And have you considered all the people who will die when the lights go out in the city?” Shimotsuki demanded. “When the train lines go down? When the hospital generators give?”

“The trains this late run on a differentiated track route that avoids all possibility of collision – it was put into place after the ’39 Oita Incident,” Kougami asserted. “Lights will go out piecemeal, giving people enough time to go for the types that don’t use electricity. And medical generators work on a lower frequency that the ones this will hit. They use the backups this late at night, so that they can supply steadier, longer lasting power to the equipment. It’s been standard procedure for years. I didn’t take chances with peoples’ lives on this, Inspector.”

“Oh, of course not.” Ginoza sneered. “You’re the bold, swashbuckling hero, swooping in to save us from ourselves. Tell me, oh noble one, will you also begin reciting philosophers as you survey your chaos? Or are you only borrowing Makishima’s methods, not his quirks?”

Shinya’s hackles went up, and Kunizuka moved quickly in between the two furious men. “We can’t help anything just standing here. Even if the hospitals are safe—”

“They are,” Shinya said, glaring at Ginoza. “As I said, the generators work on a frequency too low for them to be hit by the pulse.”

“But that’s not true.”

Kougami looked around and above her head, before lowering his gaze to Mika, as if he had forgotten her in the interim. “What?”

“You’re wrong,” Mika stated flatly. “The generators have been alternating for the past few months. During the night, they use the heavier powered ones, but at 15:00 they switch over for four hours to the low LDI models.”

Shinya stilled. “How can you be sure?”

Mika puffed up her chest. “The Chief herself briefed me on it. It was one of the city regeneration measures she put into place to afford greater productivity—”

“What time is it now?” Shinya interrupted. Mika gave a scowl that was half-pout at being interrupted. “Based on our time of arrival at the descending point to the tunnels, and adding an additional half an hour at least for our activities down here, I’d say—”

“14:39,” Kunizuka broke in. “I checked the time before Karanomori cut out.”

Ginoza hadn’t taken his eyes from his former partner’s face since he’d froze. Even in the dim tunnel, he could see Shinya paling by degrees, his heartsick look rapidly becoming horror. “This will annihilate all the medical equipment in all the hospitals of Tokyo.” It was a statement that begged refutation; Shinya gave none, his wolf’s eyes all too humbly human in their agony. “This will kill thousands, millions.”

Shinya’s throat tightened visibly, and Ginoza witnessed his shame, and with it, the final piece clicked into place. “And you don’t even care,” Ginoza snarled, speaking for the both of them. “You don’t care about the millions – you only care about the one.”

Mika frowned, as ever one step behind them. “One…oh. You mean—”

“The medical wing.” Kunizuku heard her own voice as if it was another’s. “It will be the first place to go down.”

Kougami’s mouth was open, but he couldn’t form the name Kunizuka knew was racing on repeat through his brain.

~

“Akane.”

She winced as the Chief’s voice cut a searing hole through her aching mind. “Aren’t you curious? Your adept mind must be working to see the next step in our plan.”

Akane swallowed back bile. In truth, it was all she could do not to retch over the side of the hospital bed. “Why? So you can gloat some more? Collect more data from my reaction?”

“Oh, our data is being collected as we speak,” Kasei said, animatronic eyes on Akane as she bent over again with another wave of sickness. “But don’t you want to witness your lover’s grand design? After all, none of this would be possible without you. Come.” Kasei waved her hand and the bed inched forward on automated wheels. The headboard rose, and Sibyl’s spokeswoman pressed a button to open the sheet metal blinders of the window. The lights of the city nearly blinded Akane, set against the dark of night. _How many days have passed since I’ve been out?_

“Beautiful,” Kasei pronounced. “That is the consensus of the population anyway. So many millions living in such close, precarious conditions. If any one thing were to happen to disturb such equilibrium, it would be like a colony of ants deprived of scent – blind, leaderless, wild. Chaos.”

Akane shivered, and Kasei grinned as Sibyl’s voice issued from her mouth. “Come, Inspector Tsunemori. Bring your sense of clinical interest, and perhaps some of that human excitement. It isn’t every day that you get to see a city fall.”


End file.
